


Anything But Simple

by riwriting



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Fight Scenes, Flawed characters, Jyn Bodhi and Mon have an adventure, Jyn Erso-centric, Jyn Week 2017, Jyn does crime, Jyn has abandonment and trust issues, Learning to Person, Mission Fic, POV Jyn Erso, it doesn't show up until the end, many things go wrong, one explosion, recruiting allies, the romance is not the main part of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-24 03:55:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15621981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riwriting/pseuds/riwriting
Summary: After Scarif, Jyn tries to help Mon Mothma recruit a rebel cell to the Alliance's cause.  Things do not go as planned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr in 2017 (Parts I-III) and 2018 (Parts IV-VI) and was written for Jyn Appreciation Week 2017.

It started the same way.  The leader of the free galaxy sat across the table from her and said, “I have a mission for you.”

It started the same - but it could not be more different. 

_Before_ , there was no real choice.  She could do what was “asked” of her or she could be thrown back into a prison where the punishment for escape could be her death. _Before_ , she had been nothing more than a tool, a means to an end, a thing and not a person (not really). _Before_ , no one cared whether she came back.  She had run out of friends and had no hope of finding any more.

 _Before_ , she didn’t have anything to believe in other than herself.  

But now - now things were…they were different.  

She wanted this - a mission, a way to help, a way to belong again.  Jyn was loathe to admit it, but Saw had been right about one thing.  She hadn’t been his best solider because of her abilities.  She’d been his best soldier because she’d believed.  She’d lost that when Saw left her, hated the thought of ever believing again because it hadn’t been enough Before.  It only brought her pain.

Until it didn’t.  Until believing meant stopping the Death Star and avenging her father and fighting back against the greatest evil the galaxy had ever known.  She wanted to keep believing.  She wanted to be like Bodhi – who walked away from everything he had ever known and risked everything to deliver a message because he believed – or like Cassian – who spent his life putting his beliefs before everything else.  She wanted to be selfless and to care, to stop looking down.

While some habits died hard, while she’d always have a bit of a selfish streak, she could do this.  She could help the Rebellion, start over, build an After.

She said yes.

~*~

Jyn arrived at dinner early, setting her tray on the table she usually shared with Bodhi and Cassian. There were parts of her mission she wasn’t permitted to discuss, but she could tell them that she had one.  She wasn’t training any longer, waiting to be useful.  She was using her particular skill set to help the Rebellion and fight back.  She felt like she was retrieving an interrupted strand of her life and tying it back together – stronger this time.  It was something deserving of a celebration and she had people to celebrate with.  

Jyn watched as soldiers and base personnel floated in and out of the door to the mess.  People ate, talked, laughed, and departed.  Neither of her friends appeared.  She glanced at the chrono again, wondering if perhaps Cassian had a meeting that ran late or if Bodhi had a time sensitive issue arise in the hanger.  Things like that happened, she reminded herself.  Each of them had been held up more than once before.  It wasn’t out of the ordinary, really….  

She waited as the food on her plate cooled, and as the room filled, and then as it began to empty.  She waited until the people who were on duty that night began gathering up the leftovers and wiping down tables.  She realized if she didn’t eat now, they’d take her tray and she’d have to wait for breakfast.  She also realized no one was coming.

It wasn’t, Jyn told herself as she swallowed a spoonful of cold mush, as if they promised to eat together.  It had happened organically, the three of them gathering for meals.  It started with her and Bodhi.  They knew no one else and sitting together was better than sitting alone.  When Cassian was released from medical, he just sort of came along.  No one was required to eat with anyone else, and it wasn’t the first time she had a meal alone.

She told herself this was okay.

When she ate breakfast alone the next morning, she had to admit that maybe it wasn’t.  From then on, she stuck to meals of ration bars in her room.

~*~

Answers came a day later.  She was looking for Councilor Mothma when she heard voices coming from a conference room.  One was familiar.  Jyn knew it was none of her business, but she stopped outside the door to listen anyway.  From where she stood, she could see Cassian’s back, as well as a man she didn’t recognize wearing the insignia of a major.  A superior officer then.

Jyn felt herself relax as understanding sank in.  Cassian hadn’t been avoiding her.  He must have been gone on a mission.  He was being debriefed now.  He….

“There’s a bit of talk going around,” the major said.  “About you and the Erso girl.”

“People talk, sir,” Cassian commented, his voice giving nothing away.  

“Is there anything to the talk?”  The other man asked.

“No, sir,” Cassian’s clipped voice replied.  “Nothing.  The only thing there’s ever been between me and Jyn Erso is Operation Fracture.”  Cassian’s voice left no question that he meant every word.  “I have no interest in her beyond her usefulness to the Rebellion.”

The words hit her harder than a sucker punch to the stomach.  Jyn didn’t know how to handle it.  When someone punched you, you launched yourself at them and fought dirty until you won.  Words – she couldn’t exactly claw away Cassian’s words.

“I’ve kept an eye on her and Bodhi Rook,” Cassian continued.  “Tried to make sure they are assimilating and aren’t getting into trouble.  That’s all.”

Jyn pressed against the wall, her head reeling.  She had to admit she was not exactly an expert on friendship.  What she could misinterpret as _being friends_ , Cassian and Bodhi could understand was nothing more than working together towards a common goal.

“The talk doesn’t involve Rook.”  The major said.  “Just Erso.”

Jyn heard Cassian give a sigh.  “I know.”  There was a pause.  “I know,” he repeated, this time with more confidence.  “And I know that when people survive a near death experience together, they can get confused and imagine connections that don’t exist.  But there’s nothing there, sir.  There never was. She’s just an asset.”

Jyn swallowed.  She knew that shared survival made people believe in bonds that were not really there. She just hadn’t thought…it wasn’t like that, was it?  Cassian and Bodhi were her friends.  Cassian had come back, over and over.  It wasn’t supposed to be like that this time….

“Good,” the major was saying.  “So the pick-up…”

She retreated from the conversation she wished she’d never heard, Cassian’s words ringing in her ears. _I have no interest in her beyond her usefulness to the Rebellion_.

~*~

It was better, Jyn decided, to have answers.  She’d known there was something inherently _broken_ about her.  Not broken in the traditional sense, where everyone could see the jagged pieces, but broken nonetheless.  There was something just a bit off about her – something wrong.  That was why Saw dumped her, why the people she’d run jobs with left her behind. People eventually figured it out.  

Cassian had.  That was why he didn’t want to see her anymore and why he treated her as an asset.  It didn’t matter if an asset was broken, so long as it did what you needed it to do.

Cassian had shared it with Bodhi.  That much was obvious – Bodhi hadn’t come around for days.  She couldn’t really blame him for that.  Bodhi had a good thing going for him here – a fresh start, a future doing something he was good at for a good cause.  He didn’t need something like Jyn hanging around either.

Her life Before had given her skills that she used now.  The ability to disappear into a crowded room. The ability to avoid people she didn’t want to see.  The ability to take care of herself and get the things done that she needed to get done.  

It was almost too easy, on a base the size of the one she’d found herself stationed on, to not see her former mission partners.  

It wasn’t easy to pretend that it didn’t hurt.

~*~

Having a project kept her mind busy.  She wanted to help the Rebellion, Jyn reminded herself, and nothing had changed about that.  Cassian and Bodhi could move on with their lives.  She wouldn’t get in their way.  Her project preparation was a single person job.  She could do most of that preparation out of the way in her room until it was time to go off world.  And maybe, maybe, when she got back, it would be…easier.

A knock came from the door.  The councilor, Jyn realized, coming to check on her progress.  She pushed herself to her feet, her blanket falling from her shoulders, and keyed her door open.

“You’re avoiding me.”  Bodhi Rook stood outside her door.

Jyn contemplated lying, and then decided no answer was all the answer she would give.  It was true, after all.  She _was_ avoiding him.

Bodhi looked miserable as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.  Finally, he asked, “Can we talk?”

She shrugged once, but moved aside so that he could enter.  He shuffled in and took a moment to look at the mess she’d made – at the flimsy depicting maps and briefing summaries scattered across the floor and the half eaten stack of ration bars lying beside a long-cold pot of caf, and the blanket that was pooled where she’d let it drop from her shoulders to open the door.  Silently, she keyed the door shut before retrieving the blanket and tossing it onto the bunk built into the wall.  Jyn moved to her knees and began gathering up her things, moving them to the side to make a path from the door to the crate that she sometimes used as a chair.

“What are you working on?”  Bodhi asked to fill the quiet.

Jyn finished collecting her flimsy into a single stack.  “A project.”  She set the stack against the wall but made no other move to offer him a seat.

Bodhi took his place on the crate regardless.  She plopped herself on the edge of the bed and waited for what she knew was coming.  It would be good, really, to get this over with. 

“Is it an interesting project?”  Bodhi continued to try to make small talk.  When she responded by shrugging again, he sighed.  “Jyn, I…I know you’re upset and I’ve been through everything over and over and I can’t…Jyn, what did I _do_?”

“Nothing.”  She replied.

“You’re avoiding me because of nothing?”  Bodhi sounded incredulous.  

She could say, _I’ve been busy,_ but despite her many flaws, Jyn was not one to hide from reality. “Why are you here, Bodhi?”

“Because something is wrong and I’m trying to fix it.”  Bodhi said, sounding angry.  She’d never really seen Bodhi get angry before.  Bodhi was always anything but angry.  “Because I came back from an emergency supply run, and you aren’t at meals, and Cassian’s not at meals, and no one will tell me what happened. Something happened.  I did something, but no one will tell me.  We’re _friends_ , and friends talk about it.”

Jyn looked at her hands, folded them, unfolded them, and folded them once more.  She wanted to ask if he meant it – that he thought they were friends – but couldn’t bring herself to speak the question.  She wasn’t sure why, but it felt as if she was hanging from a height and waiting for her fingers to give out.  She had to rescue herself.  Get herself out of this.  Jyn tried to find words to fight the words that had thrown her off balance. None came.

"Cassian said that he sees us as assets,” Jyn finally admitted.  “He said that my only value is what I can do for the Rebellion.  When you weren’t around, I thought you thought so, too.”

“He said that?”  Bodhi looked shocked.

Jyn nodded.  “He didn’t know I heard.”

“Well, I don’t feel that way.”  Bodhi was emphatic as shock dissipated and he returned to anger.  “I can’t believe you thought that.”

“Cassian’s right, though,” Jyn protested.  “I have some use as an asset…and…and there are things I can do for the Rebellion, but….”  

“You need to have more faith in people, Jyn,” Bodhi said, exasperated.

Jyn looked at him as if he was crazy.  Because – clearly – he was crazy.

Bodhi frowned.  “I’m not stupid.  I can tell you that you’re stubborn, and tempestuous, and you don’t exactly get socialization.  You can be absolutely cruel with words when you want to be.  Oh, and trust issues.  You have those.  I’m still here.”

Jyn wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she tried diversion.  “Tempestuous.”

“Yeah, you know, like angry?”  Bodhi nodded.  “You’re very much a ball of angry sometimes.”  He paused.  “There’s something wrong with everybody.  Friends just…I don’t know, they see the broken parts and they go ‘yeah, I know about the jagged edges, but I want to be friends anyway.'”  

There were a few things Jyn had a hard time arguing away.  Bodhi could have taken the hint and kept his distance, but he searched her out.  He wanted to fix the gulf she’d diligently been digging between them, all while she’d done to him the exact thing she thought he’d done to her.  She could have talked with him and found out what was going on.  If she had, she would have known he’d been doing his job and not avoiding her. 

She’d jumped to conclusions and she’d hurt her _friend._   She wasn’t sure how to fix it.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”  And like that, Bodhi was back to normal.  “You’re still here, too, aren’t you?”

Jyn blinked.  “Yes.”

He shrugged once more.  “Then we’re good.”

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

Jyn wasn’t an expert on the Rebel Alliance, but she was starting to believe that she was given more freedom to operate than most people.  No one complained when she was found slugging a heavy bag in a training room at 0300 or when she was asleep at 1030.  No one insisted she follow military protocol.  The armory didn’t give her a hard time when she searched for a few weapons she needed, despite the fact there were no records assigning weapons to her.  It wasn’t until Mothma agreed that Bodhi could pilot the upcoming mission that Jyn put everything together.

“I think I’m Councilor Mothma’s special project,” she told Bodhi as they made their way through the mess line.

“You’re just figuring that out?” Bodhi joked.  When she didn’t respond right away, he said, “Oh. You, uh, you just figured that out.”

It was, Jyn suddenly realized, obvious to everyone but her.  She felt her face was start to color and quickly reached for a wrapped sandwich.

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Bodhi kept talking.  “I get to fly her out to some important meeting instead of picking up foodstuffs at a shady space station because of you.”

“The meeting is at a shady spaceport,” Jyn pointed out, turning away from the line and towards their normal table.  She stopped.

“Change of scenery, then.”  Bodhi continued to happily chat as he snagged a piece of fruit from a basket.  “Stay on her good side, Jyn.  I’m starting to like this nepotism – what’s wrong?”

Jyn inclined her head at Cassian Andor, sitting at a table with several men she didn’t recognize.  She hadn’t seen him since she overheard his conversation with the unknown major.  It had been easy to lock him away in a new hatch in her mind and pretend as if he was no one of importance.  Now, suddenly, he was there, just across the room, and she was forced to admit that the hatch had yet again failed to protect her.  Jyn’s stomach dropped and she felt her face flame as his words began repeating in her mind.  

It was then that Cassian noticed their attention.  His eyes met hers, dark and unreadable.

“Jyn?”  Bodhi sounded far away, despite standing next to her.

She blinked, then forced herself to look away.  “I…”

“I’ve got to run some checks on the shuttle for tomorrow.  Mind helping?”  Bodhi asked, turning his back on Cassian and heading towards the exit as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

_You’re leaving in the morning_ , she reminded herself.  _And chances are, he’ll be off on a mission and won’t be here when you get back_.  As if she always meant to grab a sandwich and go, she followed Bodhi from the mess.

She didn’t start breathing again until they were half way to the hangar.

~*~

If Jyn was being honest with herself, she might have some lingering resentment for certain higher ups in the Alliance stemming from how she originally met them.  Binders and kidnapping had that effect on a person.  

Still, she found she didn’t hold onto it nearly as much with regard to Mothma than she did where others were concerned.  The older woman could have ordered Jyn around like a soldier, the way Jyn saw high ranking officers order those beneath them.  Instead, Mothma spoke to her as if her opinion mattered, as if she was an equal, as if she _wasn’t_ a criminal who spent her formative years in and out of prison, fights, and temporary fringe organizations.  Jyn wasn’t sure how to respond to this treatment, but she found it warmed her towards Mothma personally and Alliance Command generally.

When Mothma asked _Bodhi’s_ opinion on what life had been like in the Holy City prior to its destruction and listened attentively to what he described as if receiving a briefing from someone like General Draven, Jyn decided that maybe it was time to let go of what little resentment was left.

Now, as they hurtled through hyperspace, the questions began to wiggle their way through her mind. There were far better people than Jyn and Bodhi for this mission. There were people who were trained to negotiate and recruit.  There were people who knew how to handle difficult conversations with grace and smooth over rough edges.  There had to even be people who Mothma would trust to travel into Imperial space with far more than she could trust two people she barely knew.  “Why me?”  Jyn broke the silence.

“I’m sorry?”  Mothma looked up from the mug of caf she’d been nursing.

“You requested me, specifically,” Jyn pointed out.  “For this….”  She waved a hand at the shuttle.

“Oh.”  Mothma nodded.  “Yes. The group we’re meeting with is the sort whose political opinions trend towards Saw Gerrera’s.  I believe some of them had been in contact with him these past few years.  Having someone with first hand knowledge of how these types of groups prefer to operate on the team is useful.”

“I give you credibility,” Jyn translated.  It made sense.  Even dressed in a set of fatigues – and they were very nice fatigues – Mothma did not look like a soldier.  There was a look about the Partisans, about soldiers like them, that you couldn’t adopt unless you lived it.  Even now, years later, Jyn knew she still carried the look.  She didn’t deny that people felt more comfortable around someone they thought they understood.  Another Partisan-style solider, standing quietly with an Alliance diplomat, sent a statement.

“You do,” Mothma agreed.  “I’m not going to deny that walking through the door with Saw Gerrera’s mysterious foster daughter isn’t going to get us the kind of attention we want, but that’s not why I wanted you on this mission.” She sipped from her caf.  “The briefing materials you prepared are impressive, and you understand these types of organizations.  You understand the people.  That knowledge could help us find a way to sway their hearts to what we’re offering.”  A small smile appeared on her face.  “And you’re better at it than you think.  I don’t believe you realized the effect you had on our last meeting.”

Considering the people in the last meeting she’d been to with Mothma were either dead or not among her fan club, Jyn wasn’t going to touch that comment.  She caught herself gripping her necklace and forced her hands to drop away. “Why are these people important to the Alliance?”

“It’s a strategically important system, and the cell here is large and established.  If we can find common ground, we could work together and accomplish more than either organization could do on its own.”  Mothma looked up from her caf. “I believe the quote goes ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend.'”

“But you kicked Saw out.”  Jyn said.

Mothma nodded.  “We’ve had recruiters communicating with this cell.  They’re more extreme than we’d like, but not on the order that Saw was.  We think they may be willing to modify tactics.  Before now, they’ve been unwilling to hear us out, but the recent discussions with the recruiters have been promising.”

“What changed?”

Mothma looked at her and gave her the smallest of smiles.  “Scarif,” she said.  “If our tactics get those types of results, well, perhaps there’s something to them. Nothing will be resolved on this trip, but hopefully it will be a step in the right direction.”

“You’re risking a trip into Imperial space because you hope you will be able to form a strategic alliance some unknown time in the future.”  Jyn said.  She did a poor job of hiding how foolish she thought that was.  Mothma had a price on her head and they were going to an Imperial-held world for something that was more likely than not to be a waste of time.  It was, in Jyn’s opinion, the definition of foolish.

Mothma smiled again, as if amused by the entire conversation.  “I seem to remember someone insisting that rebellions are built on hope.”

The image rose in her mind.  The street on Jedha, the cool temperatures chilling her skin, the foreign smells wafting from market stalls, and the sound of many unfamiliar languages.  Cassian Andor, standing far too close, as he took her scoffing and easily replied, _“Rebellions are built on hope.”_ Jyn pulled her jacket tighter.  “I might have borrowed that from Captain Andor.”

Mothma laughed.  “Well.  It was a good line to borrow.”  She returned to her caf and added, “And a good person to borrow from.”

“Yes,” Jyn agreed as her hand began to fidget with the urge to touch her necklace once more.  “ He’s very dedicated to the cause.”

~*~

“You have a lot of weapons for a diplomatic aid,” Bodhi observed as their rented speeder flowed with traffic through the city.

“I have three,” Jyn protested. “Saw used to carry at least double that when we had to meet with Alliance representatives.”  She realized belatedly that Saw was probably not the person to hold up as a sign that her behavior complied with societal normalcy.  Saw hadn’t even been considered normal within groups plotting to overthrow legitimate governments. She quickly found a better excuse.  “I carry all of them around the base and no one blinks.  Besides, I’m a bodyguard today.”  She glanced up at the tall buildings they were weaving through.  “You, too.  If anyone asks, you’re deadly.”

“I thought I was just driving the rental speeder.”

“Oh,” Mothma spoke up from the backseat, “Everyone knows the best chauffeurs are the deadliest. My family’s chauffeur on Chandrila was ex-military, worked in special ops before coming to work for us.  He could do everything from snapping the neck of a fully grown man in a brawl to making someone quietly disappear from under the noses of top security officers.”

Bodhi dropped his voice.  “Is she serious?”  He whispered to Jyn.

“You’re wanted on six worlds,” Jyn remarked, ignoring the question.  “Under three different names.”

“Only six?”  Mothma asked.  “Hm. We need to do better on our screening for speeder chauffeurs.  They should at least be wanted on eight.”

“I, uh, I can’t hit the side of a building with a blaster…” Bodhi started.  “I don’t even like that I have to carry one for this.  If we could, maybe, come up with a more, a more convincing story…”

“All you have to do is stand silently and scowl,” Mothma told him, her voice reassuring.

“And pretend you’re wanted on six worlds,” Jyn added.  “There were people who left me alone when I was working with various organizations because I looked at them like I wanted to hit them.”

“Did you?”  Bodhi asked.  “Want to hit them?”

“Usually,” Jyn conceded.  She tilted her head back against the headrest and shut her eyes.  The sunlight felt warm on her face.  “But if you stand there and scowl, they won’t know the difference.”

“I don’t expect any trouble.” Mothma added.  “They want to talk with us as much as we want to talk with them.  That means everyone will behave themselves.”

Jyn snorted.  She gone to one of Saw’s meetings with an Alliance representative.  The two men hadn’t exactly engaged in civil debate.  At the time, she’d been surprised it hadn’t gotten violent.  Nine year old Jyn had thought it should have, convinced Saw would win the fight and get his way.

In the backseat, Mothma amended, “No one will shoot us.”

~*~

Jyn had found the Alliance Council’s meeting about the Death Star to be both frustrating and ridiculous. An hour into Mothma’s meeting with the resistance cell, she realized just how much worse meetings could be.  She’d found the various factions among the Alliance to be bickering and unfocused, but at least those factions came from different organizations operating in different sectors under different conditions.  This cell was supposedly one cohesive group.

Supposedly.

Jyn was convinced no one involved in this meeting had the first idea of what cohesion meant.  There were no less than fifteen representatives from the resistance cell because, as she quickly learned, there were fifteen conflicting points of view on what everyone should do.  It was no way to run a resistance organization.  She didn’t know how Mothma was still calmly and rationally speaking with them.  In Jyn’s opinion, this was all a waste of time and her nine-year old self’s approach to problem solving – beat the other guy into the ground – was looking better by the minute.  

“The problem I have about your proposal,” an older man with a nasty looking scar splitting his cheek was speaking, “Is that your Alliance,” he spat the word, “Is withholding all aid to us unless we do things your way.”

“Failure to try to avoid civilian casualties is not an option.”  Mothma replied, still calm, but her voice getting the smallest bit sharper.  “The Empire is the enemy, not the people who are unfortunate enough to stand near a stormtrooper in the street.”  Okay, Jyn amended, maybe not quite as calm as she had been.

“It’s not like the Imperials let us waltz into their bases to have a go at them,” a woman about Jyn’s age remarked, not bothering to mask her frustration.

“That’s something we can help with,” Mothma turned to the woman.  “That’s why we’re discussing a strategic partnership.  We can provide you with intel and with operatives trained to do things like get you inside a base to have a go at the Empire.”

“I don’t even know why we’re talking about this,” the man with the scar cut in.  “Your way of fighting had you hiding in shadows.  You can sneer down your nose at us all you want, but with our way, the Empire knows people are fighting back.  They know we’re a serious enemy.  We’re causing damage.  People know what we can do.”  He’d made the argument at least seven times now, and seven times, the majority of the cell’s representatives murmured their assent.  They began murmuring again now.

“Oh for the love of….  Your way isn’t working,” Jyn interrupted, her hands slamming on the top of the table.  The room became quiet.  She had their attention.  She wasn’t supposed to.  She was supposed to stand behind Mothma with Bodhi and scowl.  This was blowing up spectacularly.

Jyn was not a politician.  Her knowledge of how to communicate with other rebellion groups was limited to watching Saw as a child and watching one Council meeting as an adult.  She had the room, though, and for the first time, no one was muttering.  

Oh, well.  They were about to be thrown out anyway.  “You might be causing chaos for the Empire, but you’re alienating the people.  You’re feeding the Empire’s narrative – that you’re _everyone’s_ enemy – and you’re driving every civilian into the Empire’s arms because they want to feel safe.”

“People who sacrifice freedom for safety don’t deserve either,” someone hissed.

“That’s bantha shit and you know it,” Jyn shot back.  “You aren’t offering them freedom.  You’re just offering them a different thing to fear.”  She saw the movement out of the corner of one eye.  Jyn twisted towards the motion and saw a hand stop part way to a blaster.  She held the gaze of the young man, wondering what she would do if he didn’t back down.

His hand fell back to his side.  Jyn let out the breath she’d been holding slowly through her nose so that the others didn’t see her relief.

She was aware that everyone was still looking at her, and it felt, suddenly, as if the room was now holding its breath.  Jyn looked at Mothma, who gave her a small smile and nodded once for her to continue.

Except she didn’t know what to say. She’d opened her mouth and put herself into a conversation she wasn’t supposed to be a part of.  She was here as a bodyguard, and maybe to provide a bit of insight on how people like these soldiers thought, because their approach was similar to….

She swallowed.  “I was rescued from the Empire by Saw Gerrera when I was eight years old.”  Her voice sounded more confident than she felt.  What little confidence was there wanted to leak from her as the room became more electric than before and she heard someone whisper something about _Saw’s daughter_.  Jyn didn’t have time to think about what that meant.  “He raised me.  He taught me everything I know about fighting the Empire.  And some of you,” she let her eyes sweep the room, “I know some of you met him.  You know the type of fighter he was.”

“One of the best,” someone called, as if Saw was a hero from myth and not the broken, paranoid man he’d been at the end.

“Yes.”  Jyn agreed, keeping her voice as even as she could.  “He was a great soldier.  But he was never as effective as he could have been.  His tactics alienated a lot of people who would otherwise have helped him.  People who would have been allies, who would have provided supplies, or hid fighters, or sent information.”

“The Alliance’s tactics are to hide in shadows and rely on assassins and spies,” another person spoke. “What have their tactics accomplished?”  A chorus of assenting murmurs began to rise in the room.

“Destroying the Death Star.”  Jyn replied, point blank.

The chorus fell silent.

“Councilor Mothma is not saying you shouldn’t fight, or that you have to fight from shadows.  She’s saying that if you narrow your targets, make strikes on military targets while avoiding civilians where possible, you’ll see better results.  Less terror.  More allies.  More military disruption.”  Jyn glanced at the table.  “Maybe if we’d done that with the Partisans, we’d have liberated worlds instead of causing headaches for the Empire.”

“Has the Alliance had any success with these types of strikes?”  A different man asked.  For once, the tone was not combative.

“We have,” Mothma answered the question.  “Worlds have been freed, and we’re gathering support across the galaxy as well.”  She sat forward and rested her hands on the table.  “Let me tell you how we liberated Contruum.”

~*~

Returning to the spaceport was one of the most anti-climactic things Jyn had done in recent days. Considering that her last foray into the political arena ended with her somehow leading an army of assassins and saboteurs (plus two Guardians and Bodhi) to invade an Imperial stronghold in an attempt to stop a super weapon, she supposed she didn’t really know how these types of things were supposed to go.

“I think that actually went,” Bodhi paused, “Well, not-bad.”

“We’ve opened a constructive dialogue with what could be an extremely useful ally,” Mothma agreed.  “I’d optimistically say it went very not-bad.”

“And no one was shot,” Bodhi added.

“That too.”  Mothma looked at Jyn. “You know, for someone who never had the luxury of political opinions, I’d say you made quite a debut.”

Jyn shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket and followed Bodhi onto the walkway leading towards their landing pad.  “I’m not a politician.”

“No, you’re not,” Mothma said, “And that’s a very good thing.  You-”

“Hey!”  Bodhi hollered.

In front of her, Jyn saw him point and followed the motion.  At the end of the landing pad, the thrusters engaged on their shuttle.

It was not the first time Jyn had watched a ship thief take off with her transportation.  It wouldn’t be the last.  And yet, the righteous anger at being left behind by her shuttle flared as if it was a never before felt wound.  She pushed past Bodhi, running along the walkway as she drew her blaster and tracked the ship’s movement.

The shuttle climbed higher into the sky.  Slowing to a stop, Jyn lowered her weapon as the futility of her actions set in.  A lone woman with a blaster wasn’t going to stop a shielded shuttle from leaving.  _Just wonderful_.  Some bodyguard she’d turned out to be.  On her first mission, the damn shuttle was stolen…  All she could do was watch it move further and further away.

And then it exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes – The remark about Jyn being present when Saw was meeting with the Alliance is pulled from the Rogue One comic adaptation. I’m aware another possible source conflicts as to whether they met. Mon’s belief in Jyn and desire to champion her is pulled from the Rogue One novelization. Contruum’s liberation is a reference to events in old canon that were spearheaded by Airen Cracken. Since he’s included into new canon, I made an allusion to that history.


	3. Chapter 3

Jyn learned at a young age that her best chances of staying alive hinged on her being able to react quickly and pragmatically when situations changed.  By the time she was reintroduced to the Rebellion, she’d honed those reactions until they were second nature.  The faster she did something about the new complication in her life, the better her outlook for survival.  

The average person did not know these things.  They took time to feel emotions and stand about helplessly. They waited for someone else to do something.  The current situation in the spaceport aligned with Jyn’s past experiences.  A shuttle exploded over the spaceport.  People were terrified.  All outbound space flight was canceled.  Other people were angry and taking that anger out at any spaceport employee they could find.  Still others wanted to know what was going on and had clustered around the holoscreens hanging from every caf pagoda so that they could watch news reports rolling in.

No one was watching luggage.

By the time Jyn rejoined Bodhi, her coat was substantially heavier and she’d found herself a very sturdy bag.  Nothing in Bodhi’s particular waiting area had changed.  People were still clustering around holoscreens and talking worriedly into comlinks.  Bodhi hadn’t even shifted position; he was still leaning against the wall and watching Mothma, who was in one of the holoscreen groups.  Jyn tapped him on the shoulder.

Bodhi jumped.  “Jyn.”

“Anything new?”  She nodded towards Mothma.

“Not that I’m aware of.”  He reported.  “I don’t think she realized you were missing.”

“Good.”  She wasn’t sure how Mothma felt about increasing their survival funds.  The Alliance seemed to have some strange morality and Jyn had yet to figure it out.  They seemed to put assassination in the _This Is Okay_ column, but they’d taken issue with her history of theft.  While she thought easing their survival situation to help ensure returning the Alliance Chief of State to said Alliance intact should fall into the _This Is Okay_ column, she wasn’t sure if Mothma would see it the same way and she didn’t really want to deal with an unnecessary argument.  Those sorts of things were also distractions.  Jyn had worked hard to find her newly acquired property and she didn’t want a distraction to help her lose it.

“Did you have that bag before?”  Bodhi asked, frowning at the nondescript brown duffle she’d picked up one concourse over.

Jyn looked at him, keeping her face blank.

“Right. Stupid question.”  Bodhi returned to leaning against the wall. “Don’t want to know.”

“I’m trying to keep us alive.”  Jyn opened the bag and began rustling through it.  Most of the things inside were useless, but its previous owner packed a nice, boring jacket, a few snacks and…bingo. Wallet.  She ripped it open, pulled out the credits, and then dropped the empty wallet and unimportant items into a potted plant.  The money and the jacket went back into the bag.

“I know.  But I like plausible deniability,” Bodhi replied.  He watched as she pulled a brown leather wallet from one pocket and begin to separate it from its credits.  After it went with the other useless things into the potted plant, Bodhi asked, “How did you get this stuff?”

Jyn shrugged, yanking a third wallet free and emptying it quickly.

“I’d think people would notice….” Bodhi continued.

“Most people,” Jyn pointed out, “Are not observant.”  She fished out her last two wallets and quickly rid them of their credits.  Ditching the rest of the evidence she straightened up and took a quick glance around.  No one paid her any attention.  She motioned at Mothma. “What’s she doing?”

“The Imperial press secretary is supposed to be making a statement about the shuttle,” Bodhi replied.

Jyn felt herself start.  “ _Why_?” The local news reporting on some ship thieves who somehow managed to blow themselves up was predictable.  If it hadn’t shut down the spaceport, Jyn would have suspected it wouldn’t even be newsworthy. Her briefing materials had said there was a lot of pirate activity in the system.   _And yet you clearly didn’t take enough precautions to secure the ship and prevent this_. Her mind started retracing her earlier actions, wondering where she’d messed up, what weakness she’d overlooked that they exploited.

Now that she was thinking about it, she’d hit the major safeguards. She’d stolen enough ships to know what thieves usually tried, which meant these people had been better than her.  The explosion didn’t really make sense in that context, though.  It was _hard_ to accidentally blow yourself up in a shuttle.  You’d really have to try to get the right combination of fuel, oxygen, and spark at the right place at the right time to blow it.  It’s why rocket launchers were easier.  Point, shoot, and cause the combination you need.

Experienced thieves, the Imperial press secretary….  Jyn grabbed Bodhi’s arm and felt him jump again.  “Bodhi?”

“Yeah?”

Jyn kept her voice low.  “Who did they think was on that shuttle?”

At that moment, Mothma turned to them and motioned.

There were moments of Jyn’s life that were surreal.  Standing among a cluster of people at a spaceport caf pagoda as an Imperial news broadcast announced “a major victory against an intergalactic terror organization” was one of them.   _They think we were on the shuttle_. Jyn wasn’t stupid; neither her nor Bodhi were high profile targets. She suspected there was still a price on both the names _Jyn Erso_ and _Bodhi Rook_ , but a little girl who disappeared fifteen years ago and a defector cargo pilot last seen on a world that the Empire destroyed weren’t who the Empire was after.  She looked at Mothma out of the corner of one eye. The other woman seemed to take the whole thing as if it was as normal as brushing her teeth in the morning.  

“We now go to Coruscant,” a man reported on the screen while an image of a shuttle filled a small square to his left, “To join the briefing from the Imperial palace.”

The screen flickered and the image was replaced by middle aged man dressed in an impeccably neat Imperial uniform.  Despite the different color of his tunic, he reminded Jyn of the man in white.  There was a _look_ about him that made Jyn’s insides freeze and, for a moment, her mind substituted the man on the screen for the monster that haunted her nightmares.  “This afternoon,” he was saying, “A little after 1630 local time, an operation team was able to neutralize terrorist leader Mon Mothma, as well as other members of her organization.  Imperial commanders have confirmed the successful completion of this mission and the deaths of these dangerous individuals.  Additional information will be provided by the Imperial press corps within the hour.  For now, however, citizens of his excellency, Emperor Palpatine, should rejoice in knowing they will sleep safer tonight and that we are one step closer to putting an end to this threat.”

The screen changed again, going back to the original newscaster, who began babbling about the local spaceport and plans to go live momentarily to interview the people on location who had witnessed everything.

“Well,” Mothma remarked, “That sounds promising.  Let’s find something more substantial to eat while the authorities do their jobs.  Shall we?”  She motioned for Jyn and Bodhi to follow her and began to wander away through the spaceport.

Bodhi stared after her, then looked at Jyn.

She shrugged.  

“Right.”  He said, more to himself than to her, then repeated, “Right.”

Jyn hurried to follow Mothma, her brain whirling.  Despite seeing groups of people clustered around screens watching news reporters repeat the few facts they thought they knew – Imperial operatives killed Mothma – no one seemed to notice that the woman who’s face kept being flashed on screens was walking among them as if out for a stroll.  Part of Jyn wondered if it was because their brains told them that she _couldn’t_ be former Imperial Senator Mothma, as they’d just been told the woman was dead, or if it was because Mothma looked like just another forgettable person in the nondescript tan pants and brown field jacket she’d been wearing.  

Mothma was waiting for them on a landing by an escalator leading to a chaotic luggage retrieval area.  She casually leaned against the railing, observing the people below as if they were fascinating, then asked, “How much do we have left from the speeder rental?”

“About a twenty credits,” Bodhi reported as they joined her.  “Uh, but…”  He looked at Jyn.

“We’ve got just under three hundred.”  She pretended as if there was nothing out of the ordinary with this.  “It’s enough to get a ticket on a discount carrier to Corellia.”

“That’s not enough for three tickets,” Mothma said.  “Not even with the worst carrier.”

“It’s enough to you off world.” Jyn replied.  “Bodhi and I will find another way out.”

“We will?”  Bodhi asked.

“While I appreciate the offer,” Mothma said, “Given the heightened security that’s in this spaceport at the moment, that seems like asking for trouble.”  She turned away from watching the baggage retrieval area.  “Besides, we either all go or no one goes.  And don’t argue with me, I outrank everyone.”

Jyn knew, pragmatically, that she should argue.  Mothma was important.  It was only a matter of time until the Imperials realized they had not, in fact, succeeded in killing her.  The sooner she was safely back in Alliance territory, the better.  But Jyn was feeling selfish and liked the idea of not being left behind too much, so she said nothing.

~*~

Their rented room had seen better days, but it had actual beds with mattresses, which made it instantly among the top places Jyn had slept in the last fifteen years.  There was even a bathroom with a water shower and towels.  Jyn spent her time contemplating whether Mothma would complain if the towels went missing after they left.  Bodhi seemed more concerned with how they were going to get off world.

“In the morning,” Mothma was answering Bodhi’s question as she fluffed one of the pillows, “We’ll contact the cell and ask them to help smuggle us out.”

“We can’t do that.”  Bodhi said, sounding more anxious than usual.  “There’s a spy with the cell.”

Jyn looked up from where she was studying her necklace.  Mothma paused in her attempts to make the bed more palatable.

Bodhi noticed their attention and acted as if the floor was the most fascinating thing he’d ever sen. “Well, it’s just, when I think about it, the only people who knew we were here on our end are us,” he motioned to their group, “And General Draven.  Does anyone here really thing a high ranking Alliance general is an Imperial spy?”

“Of course not,” Mothma said immediately.

Jyn took a moment to consider.  Draven was a lot of things.  Saying she hated him was putting it nicely.  No matter how she felt about the man, though, she knew he wasn’t an Imperial spy.

“You’re actually _thinking_ about it?”  Bodhi asked.

“He’s not the spy,” she conceded.  “He wouldn’t have the Imperials do his dirty work for him.  He’d send Cassian.”  It was a mean, hateful thing to say.  Two weeks ago, she’d never have uttered it.  Even two days ago, she’d have held her tongue, but she was overwhelmed, angry, and more than a little worried.  It was easier to lash out at an absent Cassian Andor than address any of those emotions.

“ _Jyn_!” Bodhi had the decency to look horrified.  

“Captain Andor won’t be assassinating anyone,” Mothma remarked, unphased by the entire conversation.  “He went to General Draven shortly after being medically cleared for field work and said he wouldn’t take any more assassination assignments.”

Jyn felt her brow furrow.

“Good for him,” Bodhi said softly, as if Cassian had escaped some sort of terrible fate.  Jyn supposed, in a way, he had.  He might not be her friend, but…she was glad he at least didn’t have to – no, decided he wasn’t going to - murder people anymore.

“You raise a good point, though, Bodhi.”  Mothma sat on the edge of the bed.  “I assumed someone in the spaceport recognized me and tipped off the Imperial authorities, but there could be a spy planted in the resistance group operating here.  The same things that make them an attractive ally for us make them worth the Empire’s effort of sending in an agent.”

“Is there one of them we know we could trust?”  Bodhi asked.  “Like…could eliminate from being the spy?”

“Anyone can be turned for the right price,” Mothma noted, “But there are some I trust more than others.  We could set up a meeting, get there early and watch to see if there’s a trap.  And if there is a spy, the people who are on our side need to be told.”

Jyn couldn’t see another solution – at least, not another solution she thought her team would be okay with.  She straightened in her chair.  “I’ll set up the meeting.” If something went wrong, she’d at least be able to finally throw the punch she’d been itching to throw all day.

~*~

Mothma took the first watch.  Jyn suspected she believed that neither of them would wake her up if she took a different shift.  While Jyn believed that Mothma’s impression of Bodhi was correct, she once again thought Jyn was a lot less selfish than Jyn was.

Although, Jyn amended as she rolled out of bed at her appointed watch time, maybe Mothma figured it out. Bodhi did get the last shift, after all.  “Go sleep.”  She mumbled as she took up a seat by the window and dropped her blaster in her lap.

“I’m not tired yet.”  Mothma set a cup of cheap caf, brewed from the machine they’d found in a cabinet in the room, on the tiny table beside her.  “I’ll keep you company for a bit.”

Jyn picked up the caf, sniffed it, and decided it didn’t matter if it would taste like tar.  She took a long drink from the cup.  Definitely tasted like tar.  She definitely didn’t care.  After half the caf was gone and she was starting to feel human, she set down her cup and rubbed at her face.

No one spoke.  The silence wasn’t awkward, though.  It felt companionable.  When she thought about it, her time with the Rebellion – _this_ time – it was different.  Better.  As loathe as she was to give Cassian Andor credit for anything these days, he’d been right.  This was her home.  She belonged here, with these people.  

Even if this mission had been a disaster….

“What is it you want, Jyn, after the war?”  Mothma asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t think about things like that,” Jyn replied evenly, returning to her mug.  Across the room, Bodhi snored.  

It wasn’t completely true.  When she was a child, before Saw, before the man in white, she had dreamed about growing up and having incredibly dramatic adventures.  She’d even acted some of them out with Stormy, then excitedly recounted them to her mother over dinner.  But she hadn’t been able to think like that since she was a child.  

With Saw, her goals had narrowed to something akin to surviving one day to fight the Empire the next. Thinking beyond that seemed foolish.  She’d learned at eight not to think of a life beyond the immediate, because whatever she might dream of would be taken away along with everything else.  When she found herself alone at sixteen, her goals narrowed even further to encompass nothing beyond survival.  She dreamed of things like having something to eat and having a place to shelter when it rained.

Even her father couldn’t really imagine a life for her away from the war.  He’d hoped she was with the Alliance….  No, Jyn reminded herself, that wasn’t completely accurate.  He also thought she might have made a quiet life for herself somewhere, and that such a life would be okay if she was happy.

Jyn didn’t know the first thing about what a quiet life would look like.  She assumed it was the sort of life most people in the galaxy strove for – a home, a family, something simple and safe with people you knew were going to be there when you woke up in the morning.  She doubted such a life could be possible for her.  She couldn’t see herself being someone’s wife or someone’s mother.  She couldn’t imagine trusting anyone enough to love them.  Just trying to be friends was hard.  And yet - _and yet_ \- she wanted that.  Maybe not completely quiet, but a family….  She swallowed, and reminded herself that some people were not cut out for that sort of life.  That was not the hand the galaxy dealt her.  She gained nothing by thinking of what might have been.  Besides, she knew what her life would be like when the war ended – it would look very much like it had during the time between Saw leaving her in that bunker and the Rebellion pulling her out of Wobani.  Survival.

“I worry sometimes,” Mothma’s voice cut through the silence, “About what will happen after.  War is…it’s destructive in more ways than we can name.  Even those who see the end will carry scars.”

Jyn shrugged.  There was nothing she could do about the scars she did have, and being with the Alliance was the most stable life she’d had in a long time.  It was more than she could have dreamed about while on her own.  “You get used to it.”

“No,” Mothma disagreed, “You learn to bury it until it eats up what bit of you is left.”  When Jyn looked at her, she gave the smallest shrug of her shoulders.  “I know what my mind whispers to me in the darkness.  I can only imagine what someone like Captain Andor hears.”

Jyn sighed.  “As long as it forwards the cause.”

“That’s what he tells himself to try to make it stop,” Mothma corrected.  “That’s what we all tell ourselves.”

Jyn didn’t.  Her reminder was simply, _“You’re still breathing.”_   It was more than some people got.  “What do you want?  When it’s over?”

“Over for me will likely be much longer – we’ll need to reestablish a true government for the people. It’s been a long time since we’ve had one of those – maybe even before my lifetime.  The Senate was quite corrupt when I was serving, even before the Emperor.  We can’t let it get that way again.  But if there’s time left in the end?  I’d like to find a university somewhere that will let me write treatises on history and philosophy and….”  She smiled, “And maybe smashball.”

Jyn heard something wrench from her throat.  She realized it was a short burst of laughter.

“Oh, yes.  I’m afraid I’m horribly dependent on my smashball.”  Mothma smiled.  “ _A History Of The Competitive Psychology Of Smashball_.  Perhaps that will be my first title.  I might even get to go on the lecture circuit, talk with other academics living in towers and writing about solving the galaxy’s smashball crisis.”

“I want a new mattress – one that no one has ever slept on before – that is so soft, my entire body sinks into it,” Jyn said suddenly.  It was a ridiculous and unnecessary luxury that she did not need.  It was nice to want something.

And it was easier to want something like that than the life with a family of her own that she didn’t know if she would ever see.  She pushed the thoughts away, her mind whispering to herself, _getting to tomorrow will be enough_.


	4. Chapter 4

****Jyn found Bodhi sitting on the floor of the tiny hotel balcony as the sun started to peak over the horizon.  He gave her a small smile as she sank down to sit beside him and poke her legs through the openings in the railing.  Beneath them, she could hear the first sounds of people starting to wake up, to move about, to begin their days.  Something that smelled deliciously like grease and spices floated through the air as Jyn rested her head against the railing and told her mouth to stop salivating.

“I always liked mornings,” Bodhi remarked as they sat side by side.  Keeping her forehead pressed against the metal bars, Jyn shifted her face slightly to look at him. “It feels like the world is taking a deep breath before starting. You know?”

She hadn’t really thought about it. Morning was just a signal that she had to get up, get moving, and do something if she wanted to still be alive come evening.  

“I hated growing up on Jedha,” Bodhi said suddenly, “But…sometimes, I miss those times.  Like now.  Things seem familiar and yet not.”

She nodded as if she understood, despite knowing she didn’t.  There were things she knew – she knew Jedha was gone.  There weren’t people waking up, setting up stalls in the market or making breakfast for their families or hurrying off to a job.  There was nothing but rock and sand and death.  However terrible Jyn considered her own life to have been, she hadn’t watched everyone she’d ever known be blown apart by the Death Star.  It was something she’d never fully be able to understand.  “I’m sorry.”

Bodhi ran a hand along one of the rails subconsciously.  “You ever hear something or smell something and it brings you back?”  When she nodded, he inclined his head towards the far end of the balcony, “There’s a stand down the street that’s selling pastries that smell just like the ones my mother would make on special occasions.  Got me thinking.”

Jyn felt a stab of jealousy at the way Bodhi talked about his mother – happy and wistful all at once.  She knew he’d known her, that she wasn’t a name and some images and a murder played on repeat over and over.  It was irrational to begrudge her friend a positive relationship with his mother, though, so she pushed the jealous thoughts down.  “You were close.”

He nodded.  “She died about six months before….”  He didn’t have to specify what ‘before’ meant. There were events in life that marked a before and an after.  

“How?”  Jyn asked.

“She was sick,” Bodhi replied. “It wasn’t unexpected.  She had been sick for years.  It’s why I went to the Academy.  The Empire paid so much better than anything on Jedha, and the medicine….”  He let his own head fall forward to rest against the railing.  “I still miss her sometimes.”

Jyn felt a small stab of panic.  This conversation was going in the direction of feelings.  She wasn’t sure how to talk about those.  She hadn’t talked about how something made her feel since she was eight.  She could, maybe, listen to Bodhi’s feelings, though.  She thought she might be able to do that.  “Do you want to talk about her?”

Bodhi turned his head slightly to look at her.  His expression asked _Would that be okay?_   When Jyn gave him the smallest smile, he returned it.  “She still made me those pastries on my birthday,” he began.

~*~

Things couldn’t be too bad yet.  There was breakfast.  Or there would be in three, two….  The vending machine whirled.  A handful of protein bars fell from its claws.  Jyn quickly returned wires to where they belonged on the machine before retrieving her food.  They weren’t Bodhi’s mom’s pastries, but they would keep their energy up.  

Her key slid into the lock and she opened the door to their room.

“- you could always send someone back to get us,” Bodhi was saying. Jyn felt her forehead crinkle but kept her mouth shut.  She dropped the protein bars on the tiny table, helped herself to one, and climbed onto the end of the bed.

“We have no idea what the Empire might do next,” Mothma replied.  “If they know I was here, they know I was meeting with someone.  They don’t take kindly to treason.”

Jyn ripped her protein bar open and indulged in a large bite.

“I definitely understand the concern, but contacting a trustworthy member of this cell is still our best option,” Mothma continued.  “They didn’t betray the actual meeting, which leads me to believe that the organizers and leadership are loyal.  Whoever learned I was here learned after I arrived at that meeting.  We can trust the leadership, even though I’m not thrilled with the idea that accepting their help back home means one of them will know the location of our base.”

“What if we stole a ship?”  Jyn offered.

“Uh, Jyn?  Don’t take this the wrong way, but we don’t know how to steal a ship,” Bodhi said.

“You stole a shuttle on Eadu,” Jyn pointed out.  “I’ve stolen ships.”  She looked at Mothma, waiting for approval.

“I’m not sure if that is the best approach,” the older woman said diplomatically after a beat.  “There’s a lot that can go wrong.”

There was a lot that could go wrong in any job.  Jyn continued to wait.

“Jyn, I appreciate the offer,” Mothma finally finished, “But you’ll be facing something much worse than Wobani if they catch you this time, and I cannot allow you to take that risk.”

Bodhi shot her a confused look.  “You were in Wobani for stealing a ship?”

“I wasn’t stealing the ship,” Jyn corrected.  “I was trying to steal guns. I tried to blow the ship up.”

Bodhi’s expression slid from confused to surprised.  Jyn wondered what he thought she’d done.  People didn’t end up in Wobani for minor infractions.  Bodhi had seen her kill….no.  Now that she was replaying everything, Bodhi had never seen her strike another person.  She hadn’t met him until they were fleeing Jedha.  He’d stayed with K-2SO on Eadu.  He’d stayed in the ship on Scarif.   _He’s thinks I’m like Galen_ , she realized.   _He doesn’t know what I am_. Part of her wanted to hide.  The part that was frustrated with their situation and looking for a fight, however, won.  She squared her shoulders, looked him squarely in the eye, and said, “I grew up in the Partisans.  I was one of them.  I killed a man for the first time when I was eleven.  I was Saw’s top lieutenant before my fifteenth year. I-”

“Yeah, Jyn, I figured all that,” Bodhi cut her off.  “I’m just surprised the rumor mill’s version of how you ended up in prison was pretty off.”

She blinked.

“Rumors usually are,” Mothma remarked.  “It’s one of the unfortunate side effects of being recognizable.  Now, Jyn, you offered to set up a meeting with our new allies, and I think you’re correct that you should be the person to go.  These people are more comfortable with you than with me.”

Comfort wasn’t why she suggested it.  She didn’t think Mothma was the best person to be handling things if discussions turned violent.  Jyn supposed that Mothma didn’t need to know that, so she returned to her protein bar.

“You can make contact with them and arrange a meeting,” Mothma continued.  “We can then explain what happened and arrange for transportation back to the base.”

“We don’t need to tell them where the base is.”  Bodhi said suddenly, nearly bolting from his seat.  Upon realizing everyone was watching him, he became sheepish.  “We – ah – just need to meet up with a supply run.  The, um…people here could take us to a trading outpost and, um, we could then hop onto an Alliance ship.”

That wasn’t a bad idea.  There was only one problem with it.  “Do you know where we could find one?”  Jyn asked.

“Oh. Yeah.  Um…” Bodhi glanced around before finding the flimsy pad the hotel provided.  Taking a seat at the tiny table, he began drawing furiously.  “So, this is us.”  He circled an x on the page.  “We’re strategically located not that far from this deep space station.”  A few more x’s were placed on the page before Bodhi circled another one of them.  “Originally, it was a fuel station, but it’s grown into a trading outpost with all sorts of things passing through.  People from all these worlds,” he gestured at the other x’s, “Go here to transfer goods from their respective worlds and bring back goods from the others - lots of ships coming in and out, lots of cargos being passed from one hauler to another, that sort of thing.  We have a supply run pilot here about once every other week.  It keeps up appearances that he’s a local shipper trying to make a living, and it’s a convenient place to refuel.  He should be there in about four days, give or take one.”

Mothma contemplated the crude map.  “No one is likely to suspect a cargo ship making a routine run to a trading outpost.”

“You drew that from memory?”  Jyn had seen navigators remember parts of starmaps for areas they frequented.  Bodhi hadn't been in this sector before, though.  And yet, he had it memorized and had looked up what information he had access to about Alliance personnel movements in the system.

“Yeah, Jyn.” He looked uncomfortable.  “It’s part of my job.”  

Jyn had met a lot of people claiming to be pilots over the years.  She’d never seen them do that.  An image of Bodhi over Scarif, changing from outwardly nervous to in control whenever he had to do a task that was related to piloting, rose in her mind.  Normal pilots didn’t do the things Bodhi did, but she doubted anyone ever pointed that out.  “You’re really good at it.”

“Oh,” Bodhi paused.  “Thanks.”

Mothma shot him a smile.  “I concur. A very good job.  Now,” she turned to Jyn, “Let’s set up our meeting.”

~*~  
  
Jyn missed her scarf.  It was a silly thing to miss, really.  It always sat in her Go Bag, but she never wore it around base.  Before Cassian – no, the quartermaster - gave it to her, she’d gone some time without scarves or Go Bags or weapons.  They were useful things, though – scarves.  She used them for everything from hiding her face, to creating a makeshift blanket or shaw for warmth, to serving as a weapon against an attacker.  Her current scarf – from the quartermaster – was sitting on the edge of her bed back on the base.  Like an idiot, she’d left it behind, and the jacket the Alliance had lent her for this mission did not include any hoods, hats, or other face-hiding features. 

The chances, Jyn told herself as she wound through the crowded streets outside the spaceport, of someone recognizing her were small.  The only people who had gotten a good look at her had been in the meeting with the cell.  She’d never taken a job on this planet before and, while it was an important hub, she wasn’t likely to run into any former colleagues.  The Empire might still be looking for her, but that search bulletin was from when she was eight and used an image from when she was barely older than a toddler.  No one should recognize her. 

“ _You_.” A hand grabbed at the back of Jyn’s jacket.  Instinct kicked in and Jyn felt her hands come up as she was spun around.  She barely caught sight of her attacker before the first strike landed. A thought of _What the hell?_ worked its way through her mind even as she got ahead of the second blow. 

Jyn had been attacked by more people than she could count.  Most had a legitimate reason for wanting to hit her.  She could not think of one good reason the woman from the rebel cell – the one who had spoken of wanting to have a go at the Empire – would have to come after her.  And yet there was no mistaking who her attacker was. 

The distraction of thinking doomed her.  The other woman chose that moment to surge forward for the take down.  Jyn felt her back hit the sidewalk.  The angle didn’t absorb the impact at all, leaving her dazed and breathless just in time for a fist to connect solidly with her cheek.  She didn’t let it happen again. 

“ _Traitor_ ,” the other woman bit out.  Jyn used the moment to force her own attack.  Her opponent – bigger, stronger, and not expecting the move from an opponent she thought should have stayed down - went over.   _  
_

_Get up.  Get up.  Get up_.  As if the galaxy heard her, she was suddenly jerked onto her feet.  She stumbled backward and collided with something hard and terrifyingly familiar.  White armored arms clamped down, locking her arms to her side.  Through her disheveled hair, Jyn saw two additional stormtroopers hauling her opponent to her feet, while a young woman in an Imperial officer’s uniform watched dispassionately. 

“You are under Imperial arrest,” one of the stormtroopers holding Jyn announced. 

Part of Jyn – the part still high from the adrenaline of the fight – wanted to slam her body into him.  The part that had kept her alive since being dumped saw the futility of that action.  There were at least five stormtroopers, the officer, and quite a few bystanders who were likely the type who would gladly run and find more stormtroopers for 'help.’  Fighting was a guaranteed way to end up dead.  She needed to keep her head, find a way out, and then keep a step ahead of the Empire. 

The officer looked down her nose at both of them – quite a feat, considering she was the same height as Jyn and several inches shorter than her opponent.  “Brawling.  Disorderly conduct.  Creating a nuisance….  You want to tell me what this is about or should we go down to the station?”

In response, the other woman spat at the officer’s feet.   

She took it in stride, stepping back slightly and inclining her head to the relevant stormtroopers.  They yanked their prisoner by the arms as they began leading her away, while one of the troopers used his free hand to pull a stun prod.  Jyn felt her own shoulders rise and her chin lower slightly as memories of the pain stormtroopers were authorized to use when you didn’t go quietly slithered out of the hatch. 

“How about you?”  The officer returned her attention to Jyn. 

She felt one of the troopers holding her tighten his grip.  Jyn glanced to where the others were pulling the woman away, then returned her attention to the officer.  “I don’t know.” 

She sighed dramatically.  “They never know.”  The officer beckoned to her.  “Identification papers?” 

One of the stormtroopers reached into the front pocket of Jyn’s jacket and pulled them free.  Silently, he handed them to the officer before returning his attention to looming over Jyn and generally trying to look intimidating. 

The officer perused the papers.  “Gemma Myral.”  Her eyes flickered above her reading to Jyn.  A frown creased her forehead.   

She knew.  Jyn silently cursed the galaxy, the Force, the Alliance, and whoever else had a hand in her string of bad luck.  She knew she should have insisted on making her own papers.  Alliance Intelligence had messed up.  The officer knew they were forgeries….   

“You’re from Coruscant?”  The officer finally lowered the documents. _  
_

_That_ was what had the officer confused?  It took Jyn a moment to put it together, but when she did, she realized that Coruscant generally translated to 'Important’ in Imperial.  Coruscant coupled with the _right_ Coruscanti accent – the one that said 'my family has enough money to live near the top levels’ – meant 'Very Important’ in Imperial.  Jyn didn’t remember much of Coruscant, but she knew that government scientists and their families lived in the areas with the Correct Imperial Accents and that she’d picked up that accent.  She used what she had, emphasizing her speech as she replied, “Yes, ma'am.” 

“You’re a long way from home.”  The officer’s tone softened just a bit. “What are you doing out here?” 

“They’re looking for communications specialists in the Outer Rim.”  It should be a safe enough story.  Everyone was looking for 'communications specialists’ these days.  “I thought…maybe it would be an adventure.” 

“Communications, huh?”  The officer made a show of glancing between Jyn and her documents as if looking for the lie.  She nodded to Jyn’s belt. “Let’s take a look at that, shall we?” 

She’d left her blaster with Bodhi and Mothma, hoping for a show of good faith with the cell.  The collapsible tonfa, though, was still clipped at its customary place.  Jyn watched as one of her guards removed it and handed it to the officer. 

She turned it over a few times before figuring out how to open it.  An eyebrow shot up.  “You’re carrying a weapon.” 

There was no use denying it.  Jyn seriously doubted the officer would believe it was an accessory like a necklace or handbag.  “I am.” 

“Why would a communications specialist need a weapon?”  She asked. 

“I’m traveling alone, ” Jyn supplied, “And some men are…dangerous.” 

The officer’s face softened again.  “Your parents know you’re adventuring in the Outer Rim?” 

“I’m of age.”  Jyn protested the way a sheltered Corsucanti girl might. After a beat, she added in a more subdued tone, “They know.  They don’t approve.” 

“And you don’t know why that woman attacked you?”  The officer returned to the fight. 

“I don’t,” Jyn insisted.  “I was headed to the spaceport to see if my flight had finally been rescheduled and she jumped me.  I never met that woman before and I don’t look like I have anything of value.” 

“Ma'am?” Yet another stormtrooper materialized, this one with two young boys in tow.  Both boys were staring up at the soldier with nothing less than unfiltered adoration.  “These kids have some footage of the fight.” 

“We were doing jokes,” one of the boys said quickly, his excitement at helping spilling over.  “And it was in the background.” 

The stormtrooper held out a datapad to the officer.  She keyed it on and muted it after a child’s voice exclaimed “and then the Bantha cub says” on the vid.  Jyn waited silently.  She wasn’t sure what would happen if they drug her into the local station, but she’d been in these situations enough times to know it would be nothing good.  At least a fist fight wasn’t enough for a one way ticket to a place like Kessel or Wobani.  Jyn shoved the thought away and began wondering what would happen to Bodhi if she was locked up somewhere. Hopefully, Mothma would make sure he got home safely.  Hell, hopefully Mothma had enough sense to get off world as quickly as possible.  If the Imperials learned that they had not, in fact, killed the Alliance Chief of State – if they learned she was trapped on this planet – all hell would break loose as they tore everything apart to find her.   

“Make a copy of this,” the officer handed the datapad back to the stormtrooper, then directed her attention to the two boys.  “Thank you for your assistance, gentlemen.  If you go with TR-7731, he will return your datapad to you momentarily.” 

“Can we ask him questions?”  The first boy asked. 

“We want to be stormtroopers when we grow up,” the second one explained. 

Humor played across the officer’s face.  “A few questions that are within reason seem to be an appropriate reward for aiding the Empire,” she agreed.  “And TR-7731 enjoys making time for our future recruits.” 

Jyn seriously doubted a stormtrooper enjoyed making small talk with children, and took a small bit of vindictive enjoyment in imagining him pummeled with questions from obnoxious children. 

Once the children were out of earshot, the officer’s humor faded.  “I don’t believe for a second that you don’t know that woman,” she said bluntly, “But the video does show her initiate the attack from behind and unprovoked.”   She motioned to one of the remaining soldiers holding Jyn.  He released his hold on her, but continued to loom nearby.  “We’ll call it self defense for now, but I’m entering your data in the system.  Another altercation would be…problematic. Do we understand each other, Miss Myral?” 

“Yes, Ma'am,” Jyn replied.  She took the papers the officer held out to her and returned them to her coat. 

“I know that flights are a bit chaotic, what with the spaceport closure yesterday, but if you can bump up your departure time,” the officer continued, the warning tone impossible to miss, “That would also be in your best interest.” 

“I will try my best,” Jyn agreed. The officer nodded at her once, then motioned at her contingent of stormtroopers.  Jyn watched as they paraded off down the street and did her best not to sag against the nearest building.  Around her, people continued with their business, although it was clear they were all giving her a wide berth.  No one wanted to be the next person an Imperial patrol decided was interesting, after all.  These people might see the Imperials as their protectors, but many of them were smart enough to know how quickly that tide could shift. 

Again wishing for a scarf – for anything she could loop over her head and use to hide her face – Jyn tried to blend in and make her way to the meet point.  She couldn’t help but wonder if going through with the meeting was still the wisest course of action.  If the last fifteen minutes were any indication, she should brace herself for the worst types of welcome. 

The voice that kept her alive, that taught her to take care of herself because no one else was going to, whispered that she could run.  She had the money she’d found in the spaceport.  It was enough for a single ticket.  It wouldn’t be too hard to go directly to the spaceport, buy passage, and disappear again.  It wasn’t like the Alliance needed her. 

No. 

No, that was wrong.  They did.  If nothing else, _Bodhi_ was relying on her.  She was not going to do to Bodhi what everyone had always done to her.  She also had to admit that the idea of abandoning Mothma didn’t sit much better.  And she said she would help – she had wanted to help.  Helping meant helping.  

With a last glance at the spaceport, Jyn put it behind her, hunched her shoulders, and let herself disappear deeper into the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi flying for the Empire to pay for treatment for his mother comes from an interview Riz Ahmed gave where he talked about what he headcanoned for his character.
> 
> Jyn's history of ship and weapons thievery and her habit of locking away memories in a hatch in her mind comes from the Rogue One novelization. 
> 
> Jyn's "go bag" is a reference to the Forces Of Destiny book.


	5. Chapter 5

Jyn didn’t trust their contact.  If she was being fair, she’d admit that she didn’t trust _anyone_ (except Bodhi), but she particularly didn’t trust someone who’s organization had at least one Imperial mole and at least one person who thought it prudent to attack her on a street with Imperial patrols.

Now, sitting across from him in the back room of what appeared to be a laundry, she couldn’t help but feel as if she was sitting on a bomb rigged to a timer.  She’d marked the exits, identified at least three things within arm’s reach that could be used as a makeshift weapon, and could see her contact’s open hands sitting on the table opposite her own.  None of it made her feel safer.  The fact that her contact had spent the last few minutes silently sizing her up as much as she’d done him didn’t help.

“We met before.”  The man finally spoke.  “You were about ten.”

The hatch rattled and Jyn shoved on it.  No.  She was not dealing with this right now.  She focused on what was in front of her.  She didn’t recognize him, but that didn’t mean what he said was false.  Many people had fought with Saw and there had been many more contacts.  It was also, she knew, very easy to lie to try to set someone at ease.  People at ease talked too much.  Jyn remained silent.

“I thought it might be a trick, what you said in the meeting.  Your little speech sounded too rehearsed. Mothma’s the type to hire an actress, so I asked someone who would know.”  He reached under the table.  Jyn felt her body brace  even as she saw the edge of a datapad and not the handle of a weapon.  The datapad clattered onto the top of the table.

Oh.  So this was some sort of dramatic reveal.  What was with people and theatrics?  Why couldn’t someone just say, _Jyn, we know your father built a planet killer and we want to use you to further our agenda_ and be done with it?  She knew what her role was, though, so she picked up the datapad and saw a picture of herself taken from the meeting.  Underneath someone typed _Do you know this woman?_ No further explanation had been provided.  Jyn slid a finger along the screen, triggering the response to appear.   _Jyn.  No last name.  Saw’s daughter.  Saw reported her dead.  -S._

“You’re not dead.”  His voice was cool and demanded answers.

“Who is S?”  Jyn replied in the same tone.

The man watched her a long moment. Jyn could see the mental debate – did answering her question gain him more than ignoring it?  “Staven.”

Her first thought was that it was a lie.  She’d specifically asked one of the Partisans on Jedha about Stave and had been told he was dead.  Her second was that Saw had been a paranoid bastard and he’d been substantially more paranoid at the end than she’d ever remembered him being before.  He also had a history of making people disappear without killing them.  “Staven’s dead.”  

He gave her a cold smile.  “So are you.”

Jyn was able to piece together the rest.  Something happened.  Staven left.  Saw covered it up.  She wondered why Staven was not welcome in the end.  She doubted it was because his father was an Imperial Science Officer.  

“Did you leave?”  He continued, “Or did Saw get rid of you?”

Jyn felt her fists clench.  It hurt. It shouldn’t still hurt but it hurt.  She couldn’t let him know he scored a point.  She needed the upper hand.  “I was with Saw right before his death.”  That was true.  “He gave me information on the Death Star and told me to give it to the Alliance.”  That was…mostly true.  He showed her the message and told her to go with Cassian.  “He ordered me to save the Rebellion.”  Essentially true.  “We were the last ship off Jedha before the Empire destroyed it.”  True.  “I suppose that means I left.”

“It wasn’t a mining accident.”

There were times when she closed her eyes that she could still see it.  Once it started, she couldn’t make it stop.  Some things did not fit inside the hatch.  “No.”

He studied her.  “And now you’re with the Alliance.”  It was more a question than a statement.

Jyn considered how to formulate an answer and found there wasn’t a good one.  She wasn’t actually part of the Alliance. She had no rank and no military role to speak of.  They brought her along when they evacuated their Yavin base.  They gave her a private room at their latest location and made sure she had access to food and water.  No one acted like they were going to kick her out, but no one had really asked her to stay, either.  The Alliance had just sort of … kept her around.  She finally settled on, “We’re working together.”

“Because of the Death Star.”

“You could say that.”

“And the Alliance believed you,” he finished.  He smiled in a flash of teeth that was anything but friendly.  “Which is surprising, because you’re not that good of a liar.”

_What_? The thought barely landed before the blaster barrel materialized in her vision.  Understanding followed half a second behind.  She was alone.  She looked like the sole survivor.  Logic dictated that she was the spy.  There had been many things Saw had sheltered Jyn from, but she knew how traitors were handled.  “I’m not the spy,” she said quickly.

The words were barely out of her mouth before Mothma’s tinny voice spoke from Jyn’s pocket.  “She’s not lying, Maran.”

Jyn watched her contact – Maran - blink.  She dropped her own gaze to her jacket.  “Comlink.”

Maran’s eyebrows rose.  Carefully, he plucked the comlink from her jacket and raised it to his mouth.  “Mothma.”

“Yes,” came the response, “I’m here, along with my pilot.”

Jyn saw Maran shoot her a dark look. If her back wasn’t still screaming at her from the fight, she would have shrugged.  Instead, she settled for saying, “You didn’t think I’d bring the Alliance Secretary of State out in the open where someone could kill her, do you?”

Maran scowled even deeper but lowered the blaster.

“Thanks.”  Jyn didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm.

Maran ignored them continued speaking into the comlink.  “You heard everything.”

“Given the situation,” Mothma replied, “We felt the need to rely on one of our sneaky Alliance tricks.”

Maran snorted.  “The situation.” He paused.  “You think we sold you out.”

“I wouldn’t have sent Jyn to meet with you if I believed you were a danger to her,” Mothma said. “But we do believe you’ve got a spy in your organization.”

Maran returned to his seat.  No one spoke as he considered it.  Finally, he asked, “What happened?”

Jyn listened as Mothma summarized the past twenty hours.  It sounded, she realized, a lot worse than it was.  She’d _been through_ worse, and, at least this time, she was going to get to go home when everything was finished.  Home.  Jyn wasn’t sure when she started thinking of the base as ‘home.’  She didn’t even know if the Rebellion wanted her.  It was probably stupid to be thinking of it as 'home.’  It was Bodhi’s home now, and Mothma’s.  She could visit and that was enough right now.  Jyn forced herself to pay attention.

“Do you want to bring this to the others?”  Maran was asking.

“Until we know who the leak is, I can’t risk my team.”  Mothma told him.  “But we will help you identify the leak however we can.  It’s in both of our interests to know who it is, and depending on how your leadership feels, we might even be able to exploit this spy to send false information back to the Empire.”

Maran was silent a moment and Jyn could see the mental calculus as he weighed the obligation he felt against both the risk and getting further entangled with the Alliance.  She understood his concerns, but the Alliance wasn’t _that_ bad, really.  Sure, the leadership was … well, it could use some improvements, but there were ways around that, like…just doing what you wanted anyway.  Jyn saw the moment Maran reached his own decision.  “Alright.  We can discuss logistics on the way to your base.”

“We have a pick-up scheduled at a station not far from this system,” Mothma said, “So you don’t need to worry about such a long trip.  I know your shipping business is very busy this time of year and losing that many days can’t be good.”

“That would work well.”  Maran agreed.  “I’ve got a shipment that's supposed to head out once they sort out the mess at the spaceport.  I can get your team on it pretty easily.  Where should Jyn and I meet you?”

Jyn listened to Mothma rattle off the address for the hotel and tried to force her shoulders to relax.  This really was almost over, and, for once, she didn’t have to worry about the inevitable re-negotiation of proceeds at the end of the job.  The Alliance wasn’t paying her, but there was food and a bed and a room that was _hers_. Maybe they’d let her keep this jacket.  It was a nice jacket.

There was a small click as Maran shut off the comlink.  He held it out to her.  “Come on.  We’re going to need to move.”

Something tingled along Jyn’s arm.  She looked around the room, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.   _Stop being so paranoid_. If the Empire was going to jump out from the shadows and descend on her, they’d have done it by now.  She shook off the feeling and took her comlink, returning it to her pocket.  

Her eyes left Maran for less than a second.  It was enough of a mistake.  One moment, she was standing in the laundry.  The next, there was nothing.

~*~

The first thing Jyn recognized were voices.  They sounded muddled, and, as she came back to consciousness, her first thought was that it was an after effect of the stun.  She couldn’t hear the actual _words_ , though.  That was…different.  Usually she could understand the words.

She forced her eyes open.  Her stomach rolled and she took a long, slow breath in and out her nose.  The feeling quieted, and Jyn began taking stock of her situation.  She was lying on her side in a dimly lit room.  The light came from a small window above the door, which was the only way in or out.  She was alone – the voices were coming from the other side of the door.  Her arms were bound in front of her, courtesy of a pair of the standard binders that law enforcement favored.  Her captor apparently didn’t have the matching ankle shackles; her legs were bound with rope.

She shut her eyes and mentally cursed the galaxy, the Force, and the entire damn Rebellion.   _You never learn, do you?_ Running out of friends had landed Jyn in Wobani.  These past few weeks, she’d been running on hope, and running out of that….  She wasn’t sure which death would have been kinder.

Death. Why hadn’t Maran just killed her?  Jyn tried to run through various scenarios in her mind as she rolled onto her back and then sat up as quietly as she could.  Pausing, she listened for a change in the voices outside.  There was none.  She set to work on the knots.

Maran didn’t have her surname.  Even if he somehow figured out that she was Jyn Erso, she doubted that the Imperials cared much about her anymore.  The old notices seeking her 'safe return’ had been about obtaining a hostage to ensure her father’s compliance.  The Empire was well aware her father was dead.  As far as she knew, the Empire had no idea she was involved with Scarif.  Jyn had no reason to believe that had changed.  She couldn’t imagine General Draven giving the okay for her participation in this job if that had gotten out.

She wasn’t being kept alive because of her value to the Empire, then.

Ah.  One of the knots loosened enough for Jyn to start pulling it apart.

Her mind returned to working through Maran’s game.  If she wasn’t valuable for the Empire, then she was valuable for the cell.  No. She was valuable for _Maran_. The woman who had attacked her a few hours ago – was it only hours?  Impossible to tell at this point – but that woman had called Jyn a traitor.  The cell knew there was a spy.  Jyn now knew the spy had to be Maran.  Maran needed to produce a spy to avoid suspicion.  The only survivor who should have died in the Imperial attack made for a great spy.  While Jyn doubted eyes would turn to Maran anytime soon – after all, Mothma had trusted him above the others – it would be most convenient if the spy problem went away.

She was tailor made for the role, too.  Maran knew she’d separated from Saw.  The Alliance had always believed that separation was Jyn’s choice and treated her accordingly.  These people likely did, too, and if Cassian’s disdain at thinking the Rebellion hadn’t been real for her was any indication….  Cassian.  Jyn suppressed a snort. What did _she_ know? What the hell did he know?  She’d like to see what he would have done if he was a kid left in a strange place with nothing but a blaster and knife.  No food, no money….the Rebellion never threw Cassian away, so what the hell would he….  

_Stop, Jyn.  This is not helping_.  It didn’t matter what Cassian thought then or now.  It didn’t matter if the Alliance agreed with him.  What mattered was that she got herself free, got out of this place, and hopefully got Bodhi to safety.  And Mothma.  She should help Mothma, too, if she could.

Jyn pulled the remainder of the rope from her legs, then held up her binders to the light.  She’d never figured out how to get out of these things before.  A cursory view of them made clear that it would take time to even have a prayer of figuring them out now.  She didn’t have that time.

It was okay.  She could…she should be able to fight like this.  It wasn’t ideal, but it was doable.  Although a weapon would be nice. She glanced at the rope before discarding that idea; it wasn’t very useful with the way her movement had been curtailed.  A quick perusal of the room verified that it was empty except for her.  Alright, she’d do it without a weapon, then.  Next step – get the door unlocked….  Jyn glanced in its direction and saw an uninterrupted stream of light along the side.

The door was unlocked.  Maran left the door unlocked.

Of course, there were people on the other side of the door.  Jyn could still hear the voices.  They were probably armed.  They were resistance fighters, after all.  And she - she was cornered, and outnumbered, and unarmed.  Maran knew she was tied up well.  He wasn’t expecting her to find a way to get free and only an idiot would storm into a room of trained resistance fighters.    

She stood.  Something bumped against her leg and she glanced down.  Jyn felt a cold smile pull at her mouth.  He’d left her bloody tonfa. Maran made one hell of a mistake.  He might have an entire resistance cell, but she had a stick.  It was all she needed.  She flicked it open.   _Time to go_.

The door wrenched open under her free hand and Jyn threw herself at the back of the first man who appeared in front of her.  She heard the crack as she connected with her target.  Without stopping, she changed direction and moved to the next, catching him across the face with an upward strike.  He at least managed to stay on his feet and reach for her.  Undeterred, Jyn slid the tonfa past his guard and slammed it into his gut.  Movement from behind had her spinning to catch her next target, with the bottom of her boot connecting to his knee.  As he stumbled down, she drove her elbows against the back of his shoulder helping him on his way to the ground.

“JYN!”

_Bodhi_! She whirled towards the sound of her name, even as another familiar voice rose above the din with, “Everyone stop!”

The order was mostly useless, as another man grabbed at Jyn.  She shoved her boot into his stomach.

A woman shouted something in a language Jyn didn’t know.  Another person yelled, “Jyn!  Stop!”  That was definitely Mothma’s voice.

This time, the fight did pause.  Breathing heavily, Jyn snapped her head towards the orders.  That was definitely Mothma.  The woman was elbowing her way past several members of the cell.  What was she _doing_ here?

Everyone in the room clearly had the same question.  Dead people were not, after all, supposed to show up at meetings.  Jyn expected more pandemonium.  Instead, the room fell completely quiet except for the groans and muffled curses from the men she’d been hitting seconds earlier as they pulled themselves off the floor.  She took the opportunity to try to blow her bangs from her face while she scanned her surroundings for Bodhi.  She knew she’d heard Bodhi….there.  He was standing just inside the door, looking a little pale and queasy but otherwise unharmed.

By now, Mothma reached her.  Jyn noticed the worried look as the other woman scanned her for injuries before turning around to address a man partially across the room.  “Mr. Vyll, is there a reason you have my aide bound up like a common prisoner?”

The man Mothma called 'Vyll’ looked like he had seen a ghost.  Jyn supposed he was still trying to catch up with the rapid change of events.  She had the distinct impression that Mothma and Bodhi had been walking through the door somewhere around Target No. 2, which likely only made everything more surreal.  Jyn filled the silence, “Maran sold us out to the Empire.  He sent people to kill you and Bodhi.”

The room exploded into sound.

“It’s true!”  A woman’s voice yelled above the chaos.  “Hey!   _Hey!_ ” A heavy pounding, as if someone was slamming against a table ricocheted through the room.  A moment later, the woman who had attacked Jyn only hours earlier was standing on a table.  “HEY! Listen to me!  It’s true!  Maran sent the Imps to collect them!  I saw it myself!”

More yelling followed.

A hand touched her arm.  Jyn looked up at Mothma.  “Jyn?  Where’s Maran?”

She whipped her head around, seeking him in the crowd but already knowing he was gone.  He had to know things had turned against him the moment Mothma entered the room.

“We’re wasting time!”  Vyll noticed the same problem.  “Find Maran! Alive.”

For the first time since she’d met them, the cell didn’t debate.  They moved as one towards the door, sending Bodhi scrambling out of the way.

“Here.” Someone landed beside her.  Jyn recognized the woman from her brawl and bit back a sarcastic remark.  The woman produced a set of lock picks from a pocket and set to work on Jyn’s binders.

“Are you alright, Jyn?”  Mothma asked.

“Fine.” She focused on watching the binder progress and added, “It’s not the first time.”

“Me either,” Mothma said.  “It doesn’t make it easier.”

The binders emitted a small whirl while brawl-woman grinned.  The relief from the pressure was instant.  Jyn nodded at her former foe. “Thanks.”

The woman nodded, then moved to a cabinet along the wall.

“She’s talkative,” Jyn observed as Bodhi reached them.  She took the blaster he held out to her.  “Thanks.  Now what?”

“We clear out.”  The woman announced.  “Maran had enough time to get a call out to the Imps.  They’ll be here as quick as they can relay their orders.”

Jyn didn’t have to be told twice.  She checked the power on her blaster as she fell into step.  “So where do you need us?”

“In hyperspace,” she replied.  She jabbed a finger at Mothma as they moved into the street, “If she’s the prize, there’s no way in hell we’re letting Maran’s new friends get their hands on her.”

“And Maran?”  Jyn asked, climbing into the back seat of the waiting speeder. She heard the engine roar to life at Bodhi’s command.

Their new friend’s face closed up into something cold and determined. “Don’t worry.  We’ll take care of Maran.”

If Maran hadn’t attacked her, set up her as the spy, plotted her death by torture, and tried to harm her friends, Jyn might have felt an ounce of pity for him.  She knew what happened in these types of groups when you crossed them.  She couldn’t, however, find any pity for him.  She twisted in her seat to face Mothma.  “How did you know?”

“We didn’t.”  She replied.  “I learned to take extra precautions years ago.  Sometimes, they’re unnecessary, but sometimes….”

“He knew Saw.”  Jyn heard herself say.  “Maran.”

“That was part of why we thought he was one of the ones we could trust.” Mothma said.  “He had a long history of rebel sympathies.  He’d smuggled weapons for Saw for several years, and had helped another cell that eventually joined the Alliance.  He wasn’t always an Imperial plant.”

“But I bet he was as long as he was working with us.”  The woman from the cell spat.

“Maybe,” Mothma agreed.  “Maybe not.  Shreev’s tried to kill our movement from day one, and Maran’s been involved in enough things over the years that there were better opportunities to deal a serious blow to us before now.”

“Shreev?”

“Palpatine,” Mothma supplied before returning to the subject of Maran.  “More likely, the other side finally made Maran a better deal.  Everyone has a price, Zera.”

“I don’t,” the woman from the cell – Zera – said strongly.  

Mothma was silent as the buildings of the city blurred past the speeder.  As Zera was about to turn back around, she said, “The Empire built a planet killer.  We had first hand evidence of what it could do. There was a team on Jedha that barely escaped when the Empire turned its weapon on the moon.  I suspected it was only a matter of time until the offer became my life in exchange for not turning it on Chandrila. What do you do?  At what price….?”  

Jyn wasn’t sure if Mothma was implying that some of the others in the rebellion might turn her over or if she was implying that she might go willingly to spare her people.  She wasn’t sure if either was the point.

“I don’t know what Maran was offered,” Mothma continued.  “I don’t know what changed.  I suspect the offer was generous, considering what he was giving them, but it might have been desperation rather than greed that changed his mind.  Your life, your family’s life…. I don’t agree with what he did, but I stopped being surprised a long time ago.”  

Zera propped her head on the back of her seat and studied Mothma.  “I’m starting,” she finally declared, “To see why he thinks you’re dangerous.”

“I’m not.  Not in the grand scheme of things.”  Mothma said.  “I’m one person.  The rebellion doesn’t need me to win.  It will keep growing, regardless of whether Palpatine ever gets to execute me for treason. He’s built his power on him, so he believes we’ve done the same, but the rebellion isn’t about any single person.  This war isn’t going to be won because one person does some incredible thing.  It will be won by the people – the average people on average worlds – recognizing that the Empire is wrong, and doing the small things that make a difference.”

“Isn’t your propaganda machine talking about an amazing pilot who made a life saving shot?”  Zera challenged.

“That pilot only had the shot,” Jyn inserted herself into the conversation, “Because one of those average Imperials decided to deliver a message.”  When Zera’s attention shifted to her, she added, “Ordinary people.”

“Coming up on the spaceport,” Bodhi announced, a little too loudly.  

Zera turned around and faced forward, her hands scrambling to her pockets as she looked for credentials to get them inside.  Jyn watched as she flashed a badge at the man at the front gate and they were waved through.  “Park in Blue Lot.  My aunt’s got a freighter there that will take you out.”

Jyn leaned back against the seat once more.  Beside her, Mothma was wearing a pleased little smile.  “What?”

“Nothing.” Mothma replied.  After a moment, she muttered, “Terrible at politics,” as if it was a private joke.

~*~

Jyn wasn’t sure how long she slept on the Alliance ship.  She suspected it was a decent amount of time, as she woke up feeling as if her body did not want to die.  Her hand brushed over a blanket that had not been there before.  She didn’t want to think how exhausted she must have been if she’d slept through someone getting close enough to cover her with a blanket.  

Sitting up, she slowly rolled her shoulders before grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around herself. The small lounge area was mostly dark, and there was no sign of the others here.  The loneliness hit hard, despite the absurdity of it. There were three other people on the freighter.  It wasn’t as if they all quickly jumped out the airlock the moment she fell asleep.  If she wanted to see people, she needed to look for them.  Jyn forced herself to stand and make her way to the cockpit.

“Hey, Jyn.”  Bodhi gave her a small wave from the copilot seat.  The pilot’s seat was empty and, after Jyn looked from it to Bodhi, he gestured back towards the direction she came.  “He’s on break.”

“Ah.”  There wasn’t any other open seat, so she perched herself on the edge of the pilot’s seat.  For several moments, she watched the hyperspace lines as her mind finished waking up.  “How long was I…?”

“Uh…” Bodhi leaned over to check the chrono on the dash.  “About nine hours?  We’ve still got time before we’re anywhere near getting back if you want more sleep.”

Nine hours.  That was ludicrous.  What was wrong with her?  Had she ever slept for nine hours before?  She shook her head.  “Mothma?”

“Took a datapad and headed into the sleeper cabin about an hour ago.”  Bodhi supplied.  “Apparently she likes reports as much as the rest of them.  You’d think she’d have us write it, but she wanted to.  I suspect she needs time to process all this as much as we do.”

Jyn didn’t really process things.  She tended to take them, squish them as small as possible, and lock them in the hatch.  If she was lucky, they stayed there.  Her hand came up to circle around her necklace and she concentrated on the shape of the stone, the way the edges felt under her fingers, the familiarity….  “How are you doing?”

“It hasn’t really sunk in yet?” Bodhi was silent a moment before asking, “You?”

Jyn shrugged.  “I’m fine.  This isn’t the first time that I’ve been in trouble.”  She twisted in the seat to look at Bodhi.  “I wasn’t expecting you and Mothma to show up, though.  How did you know Maran double crossed us?”

“That’s…kinda a long story?” Bodhi seemed to remember that they apparently had a lot of time, and that time could be used to tell long stories.  He let out a little breath and began.  “So, after we talked to Maran on the comlink, Mothma said we were going to check out and get a caf at the cart across from the hotel.  I thought that was a little weird, but I’m still new to this whole Rebel Against The Empire thing.  I figured, well, she knows what’s she’s doing, right?  So we went across the street and – I guess it was like a stake out?  We sipped caf at one of those little tables along the street and were watching the hotel to see if Maran would show.”

_Anyone can be turned for the right price_.  Mothma might have thought Maran was their safest bet, but at the end of the day, she didn’t trust anyone either, did she?  Jyn couldn’t really fault her.  She could count the people she trusted on one hand and not use all the fingers, and she wasn’t anywhere near as valuable to the Empire as the woman leading the rebellion.  And, at the end of the day, Mothma was right to be suspicious.

“After, I don’t know, maybe a half hour?  These two stormtroopers came by with Zera,” Bodhi continued his story.

“And you recognized her?” Jyn asked.

“Yeah.  I remembered her from the meeting.  She reminds me of you a lot, and I couldn’t help but think about how…” Bodhi fell silent.  

“How what?”

He looked at his hands.  “How you were probably all alone like that, being escorted through the streets when they arrested you and sent you to that prison camp.”

They’d _drug_ her through the streets the last time, but Bodhi didn’t need to know that part.  “Oh.”

He sighed.  “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”  Jyn tried to shrug as if it was nothing.  “I _did_ do the things they accused me of.”

“Jyn.” Bodhi finally looked back at her.

She waved a hand at him to encourage him to continue.  “You saw Zera with the stormtroopers.”

“I wasn’t sure what they were going to do to her, but based on how they were escorting her, I knew it wasn’t a major crime.  Not enough stormtroopers.  But I know enough about how the Empire works and I didn’t want something bad to happen to her.  We’re on the same team, you know?  So I sort of…went over and pretended she was my cousin?”

“You did what?”  Jyn tried to imagine Bodhi confronting stormtroopers with lies.

“I told them I worked for the Empire and that she was my cousin.  And then I explained she had a bit of a drinking problem and sometimes got into trouble.”

“And they _believed_ you?” Jyn didn’t think stormtroopers were the brightest, but that was pretty stupid, even for them.

“There was this guy who I’d sometimes switch shifts with, back when I was…you know.”  Bodhi looked slightly uncomfortable.  “Instead of filing reports, we’d just switch.  Took less time and that way, we never had to come up with good excuses for time off and no one got suspicious if we were off playing cards or something.  I’d use all his codes and he’d use mine when we checked in and submitted reports and stuff.  So I rattled off his ID number and we look enough alike that when he looked me up in the system to check my story….”

She knew her mouth was hanging open.  Jyn tried to shut it.

“I mean,” Bodhi continued, “I know it wasn’t as brilliant as some of the stuff you and Cassian have come up with…”

“Don’t.” Jyn jabbed a finger in his direction.  “Don’t even start, because that was more brave than anything I’ve ever done.  And it was brilliant.  So don’t.”

Bodhi’s expression went from surprised to pleased.  After a moment, he cleared his throat.  “So, uh, anyway.  One of the stormtroopers said she was brawling in the streets.  I asked if maybe he could release her to my custody and look the other way just this once, considering I was an Imperial pilot and all.  He started to talk with the other stormtrooper about it, when they got a call telling them there were rebel operatives in the area and to meet a unit at the hotel.  Zera wasn’t important anymore, so they let her go with me.”

“And then you, Zera, and Mothma watched the Imperials storm the hotel, looking for you,” Jyn finished.

“No. That was when we knew Maran sold us out and got out of there,” Bodhi corrected.  “Councilor Mothma told Zera about Maran.  Zera figured that Maran would probably pass you off as the spy, and she knew where everyone would meet.  So…we went.”

Jyn wondered if Zera told Bodhi or Mothma about _why_ she’d been arrested for brawling in the streets.  She decided it didn’t matter.  As Bodhi said, they were on the same team.  There were worse people she could have brawled with, and it _did_ look bad.  She leaned her head back and returned her attention to the star lines.  

“You okay?”  Bodhi asked again.

She didn’t want to tell Bodhi how close they’d come to dying.  They should, by all rights, be dead.  There had been so many coincidences. Any one of them being just a little bit different would have resulted in a different ending.  “Just thinking about how much of a field day Draven’s going to have with all of this,” Jyn lied.

“Eh,” Bodhi shrugged.  “I mean, I hate the guy, too, but we accomplished the mission goals and Mothma’s not dead.  I think that cell has more respect for her now than they did after the official meeting.  He can’t be too mad.  I also get the impression he has this sort of grudging respect for us.”

“He only plays nice because Mothma likes us,” Jyn observed.

“Yeah. I’m sure that’s it.”  Bodhi said.  “It can’t have anything to do with the fact that we accomplish stuff.”

“He hated Saw,” Jyn said.  She hadn’t been able to figure out which of her fathers Draven hated more, but she was well aware he wasn’t a fan of either of them and that when he looked at her, he saw them.

“Jyn, _I_ hate Saw,” Bodhi said.  “And I’m pretty sure you do, too, a good fifty percent of the time.”

“I hate everyone,” Jyn corrected.  “Except you.”

“The Guardians,” Bodhi counted, “Mothma?  I think you sort of like her, despite not wanting to.  And the cook who makes the sandwiches. You can’t hate her, Jyn.  She makes good sandwiches and she always says nice things to everyone.”

“Fine.” Jyn agreed.  “I don’t hate everyone.”

Bodhi was silent for a few moments.  “Are you going to ask Cassian about what he said?”

Jyn shot him a sour look.  She knew why it was coming up, but that didn’t mean she wanted to talk about it.  If she was lucky, Cassian would be off base when they returned, but she suspected she had used up her good luck supply from the Force.  Did she even want to confront Cassian?  She didn’t gain anything from it, and it just gave him a chance to hurt her again. She was tired of people ripping out her insides and stomping all over them.  “Don’t really see the point.”

“I think I’m going to talk to him.”  Bodhi declared.  “I’ll keep you out of it, but we almost died together and we’re on the same team, too.  We need to get along.  And I sort of get the impression that Cassian is a lot like you.”

Jyn’s slouch disappeared and her spine snapped straight.  “I am _nothing_ like Cassian Andor.”

Apparently, Bodhi felt like this whole friendship thing meant she wasn’t intimidating anymore, because he said, “Yeah, Jyn, you are. Sometimes, I’m pretty sure the two of you are two different endings of the same really sad Choose Your Own Adventure story.”

No. They weren’t.  She’d been a child when her parents….okay, so maybe that happened to him, too, apparently, but she’d been thrust into the war when she should have been learning….also not a good point of differentiation.  She had _reasons_ not to trust people and Cassian…also had probably had a life that taught him to never trust anyone.  For a moment, she found herself wondering what it had been like the first time he’d been sold out – if the stakes were even higher since he would have been sold directly to the Imps….  No.  No, they were nothing alike.

“You thought I disliked you because I wasn’t around for a couple days,” Bodhi continued.  “And now I keep wondering - have either of us given Cassian a reason to think we’re his friends?”  

“We ate meals together.”  She went out of her way to make sure she could make every meal possible.  “We told him about our days.”  

“Yeah, but that’s stuff work colleagues do all the time,” Bodhi opined. “I had dozens of those conversations every week, but I didn’t think any of those people were friends.  It was just small talk when you’re checking the roster or standing around the caf machine.”

“No.” Jyn was sure this was different.  “I _shared_ things with him.”

“Jyn,” Bodhi was not letting this go, “Stop just a moment and think about it from Cassian’s point of view.  I’m pretty sure his only friend was K-2SO.  No one seems to know him.  Have you noticed that?  It’s weird.  I don’t think he has any friends.  And, so, like there are two people he’s friendly with and they grab a sandwich with him from time to time and chat about their days.  He might think we don’t want to be his friend, either.  Not, you know, like _real_ friends.  I just think…” He paused, then repeated, “I just think maybe we should give him a chance to explain.”

Jyn opened her mouth to tell Bodhi that she didn’t want to, then shut it.  It wasn’t her place to tell Bodhi who to talk to.  “You’ll keep me out of it, though.”

“Sure.”  Bodhi agreed.  “Your name will not be mentioned.”

“Good.”  Because Cassian could burn in hell for all she cared.  And he did not deserve to know she had even mentioned his name since the last time they saw each other. No right to know she’d been thinking about him or that he hurt her or…  Jyn knew she probably looked like a petulant child, sitting with her arms crossed and scowling at the window.  She forced herself to relax.  Removing the scowl was a bit harder.  “And you’ll tell me everything that happens?”

“I thought you didn’t care.” Bodhi looked like he was trying really hard not to smile.

“I don’t,” Jyn said quickly.  “I just…believe it is important to gather information about our team mates.”

“Really?  Okay.  What’s Chirrut’s favorite color?”  Bodhi asked.

Jyn’s mind flashed through several possiblities before it settled on, “Red.”

She could hear Bodhi laughing at her under his breath as he checked his instruments.  It was oddly endearing. “You guessed.”

“It’s the color of the Force.” Jyn said.  “It was a very _educated_ guess.  Give me another question.  I’m very observant about our friends.”  Relaxing, she leaned her head back against the seat rest and wondered how in the stars she’d actually ended up with a friend.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Staven is mentioned as a former Partisan in the Rogue One novelization; when Jyn asks about him and is told he is dead. In the Inferno Squad novel, we learn he is not, in fact, dead and was not on Jedha when the Death Star destroyed it and had formed a new group similar to the Partisans. His group is later infiltrated by Imperial spies.
> 
> Jyn's prior arrest and her attitude about it come from the Rogue One novelization.
> 
> Bodhi being good at cards comes from the Rogue One Visual Guide.


	6. Chapter 6

Jyn’s life had included a lot of pandemonium.  Saw favored it.  Jobs on the fringe could benefit from it.  Being around criminals sometimes organically produced it, and in Wobani, it was the closest thing they ever had to entertainment.

None of that experience prepared her for the moment when the rebels realized their leader was alive. Their tiny group barely made it to the edge of the landing pad before being swarmed by the rebels working in that area.  The attention made Jyn’s shoulders hunch and the hair on her arms stand on edge, and it was everything she could do not to wince as she heard them calling to each other to inform their friends of the miracle.  

Jyn’s discomfort did not fade even when an escort arrived to direct them to the control room.  While the soldiers were able to keep people back far enough to allow Mothma to walk to the control room, Jyn couldn’t find their presence comforting. Walking between armed escorts only brought back feelings of being taken somewhere terrible.   _It’s not going to be like that this time_ , she told herself as they made their way into a run down building along the edge of an evergreen forest.   _I’m supposed to be here_.

She paid attention as the forest disappeared into rocky walls that had seen better days and hallways lit by lights strung up quickly along one side.  The ground sloped downward – Jyn remembered this particular building had once been the entry to a mine of some sort – before eventually leveling out into a much more welcoming subterranean hall.  Gone were the rickety, dilapidated walls and makeshift lighting.  Standard ceilings with inset lights, walls, and mostly clean floors replaced the dirt they’d walked in on.  Rebel officers passed, occasionally stopping to stare.  Apparently, the news hadn’t reached the rebels in the command center yet.  

One of their escorts opened a door to a conference room and directed Jyn and Bodhi inside with the instruction to “have a seat and wait” while Mothma continued on down the hall.  Bodhi took it in stride, pulling out a chair at the table and settling in.  After lingering by the door for several minutes, Jyn gave up and took a seat next to him.

Jyn wasn’t sure how long they waited.  It was long enough for her to start seriously contemplating trying to slice the terminal against the far wall for some break in her boredom, but not long enough for her to actually go through with it.  The door opened again right about the time she was trying to come up with an excuse to tell Bodhi so he wouldn’t be scandalized to admit Mothma, Draven, and what had to be some of their aides.

Draven dropped a datapad on the table across from them and pulled out a chair.  “Let’s start from the beginning.”

“General Draven needs to conduct a _short_ debrief before you can both head back to your quarters and relax.”  Mothma was more diplomatic.  “I’ve already explained the political situation and he’s agreed to keep on topic regarding the events from the end of our first meeting with the cell through meeting up with one of our supply ships on the station.”

Jyn exchanged a look with Bodhi, unsure where to begin.  

Draven’s expression went from stern to resigned.  “The thieves got past our security.  One of you run down what precautions we used with the shuttle.”

Oh. Okay.  She could do that.  Somewhere around her explanation of exactly how she suspected the shuttle thieves got around the codes to the engine controls, Jyn felt herself relax.  She might not like Draven, but he didn’t seem to be setting her up for anything.  His follow-up questions were genuinely directed to trying to find holes in Alliance procedures, not blaming Jyn or Bohdi for the events that transpired. From there, they moved on to her meeting with Maran.  Jyn tried to remember everything Maran had said, and noticed Draven scowl when she told him about Maran dropping Staven’s name on her.  She wondered if that meant it was true – that Staven was out there with his own group, some new version of the Partisans making trouble for the Empire.  Jyn filed the information away as Bodhi got the opportunity to answer Draven’s questions for how they met Zera and found the cell again.

“And that was when you found Erso,” Draven paused, then made what had to be an attempt at diplomacy, “Escaping.  Did anyone see Maran leave the room?”

Jyn thought.  She’d been so focused on getting away, she hadn’t even thought to look for Maran at that point.  Slowly, she shook her head. “I heard him speaking at one point, while I was still in the storeroom, but-”

Commotion came from the direction of the door.  Jyn instinctively turned towards it, rising from her seat in the process.  Her hand moved towards her blaster before she realized that the commotion was not going to be the sort that put her in danger and she forced the hand away from her weapons.  The door opened in time for her to hear the end of someone saying, “-you can’t go in there” and for her to see Cassian kriffing Andor of all people pushing past an aide.

He came to a stop, his eyes trained on her, and Jyn suddenly felt self conscious.  It was everything she could do not to fidget under that intense stare.  She tried to look away, but when he said her name, she found any movement at all to be impossible.

“Andor.”  Draven’s gruff voice broke the spell and Jyn felt her lungs suck in air.

Cassian’s gaze flickered to the general as if he just realized the man was there.  “Sir.”

Draven jerked his head towards the door.  “Out.”  When Cassian’s eyes darted back to Jyn, Draven moved to escort him from the room.  Only then did Cassian seem to recognize that he was someplace he oughtn’t have been.  He caught Draven’s attention, nodded once, and stepped back from the room.

“Oh, hey, Cassian,” Bodhi remarked as the door slid shut.  “Yeah, I survived, too.  Pretty scary. Glad to not be dead.”

“We were talking about Maran during this second meeting,” Draven brought the discussion back on topic as if Cassian had never interrupted.  “Rook, did you see him when you entered?”

They were talking. Jyn could hear them talking.  She needed to concentrate.  Saw would have concentrated.  He wouldn’t be thinking about Cassian looking like that….

Why did Cassian even _care_?  Did he have some sort of intel work that someone thought she would be crucial for?  That didn’t make much sense; her skill set wasn’t unique.  She was one of Saw’s Partisans turned criminal turned…well, she wasn’t sure what she was now.  They hadn’t kicked her out, but they also hadn’t asked her to join up the way they had with Bodhi.

“Erso!” Draven rapped on the table.

Jyn realized she’d been staring at nothing and forced herself to look at him.  Draven was wearing a sour expression.  She would have assumed he was annoyed with her, but that expression seemed to be Draven’s default.  She waited.

“Do you know what happened to him?”  It was clear the question was repeated.

To Cassian?  He left hadn’t he?  She glanced back towards the door that Cassian had exited through before she realized Draven was talking about the spy in the cell.  She brought her gaze back to him.  “I don’t.  Zera said it would be handled.”

“Right.  That should be it for now, but I’ll need a report.”  Draven decided.

“Of course,” Mothma sounded agreeable.  “We’ll make sure you get one.  If that’s everything, I’m going to dismiss my team.  They haven’t had a real meal or uninterrupted sleep for several days now.”

Draven waved a hand in their direction, almost as if shooing them away.  His attention went to his datapad as he began typing at something, his scowl growing with each letter he added.

Beside her, Bodhi climbed to his feet.  “That’s ‘dismissed’ right?”  He asked Mothma.

“Yes.”  Her voice sounded like it was smiling.  “You’re off duty.  Grab some rest.  And good job this week, Flight Officer.”

It was over.  She needed to be moving.  Jyn pushed her chair out.

“Jyn?  A moment?”  Mothma stopped her.

She exchanged a look with Bodhi, then nodded and returned to the table.  She heard the door open and shut behind her.

“I’d like your opinion of how the mission went.”  Mothma took a seat equidistant between her and Draven.  The seating arrangement made Jyn feel like she was being judged by the two Alliance leaders.

Oh.  She was in trouble.  

It wasn’t exactly unexpected.  When the Alliance Chief of State nearly dies on your watch, people are going to be upset.  “I’ve had missions go better.”

“I’ve also had them go worse,” Mothma remarked.

Her comment from several days prior came to Jyn’s mind.   _“Anyone can be turned for the right price.”_ She wondered whether Mothma carried a list of people who left her the way Jyn carried her own list inside the hatch.

“I meant that I wanted to know whether the arrangement worked for you.”  Mothma continued.  “I found we worked well together, and if you agree, I think the best way forward would be to have you join my staff.  If you’re interested, of course.”

Her staff?  Jyn wasn’t sure what people on Mothma’s staff did, but she doubted it was the sort of things she was good at.  Last she checked, brawling was still forbidden at Council meetings.  “I’d be a terrible politician,” Jyn told her.

“That’s an understatement,” Draven muttered under his breath.

“A young woman I knew,” Mothma ignored Draven, “Had aides who doubled as bodyguards.  I think there might be some merit in the idea, although we’d have to execute it a bit differently.  I can do the politics, but I’d like your opinions on some of the groups we’re targeting. There are several former Partisans who separated from Saw over the years and formed their own organizations.  We’ve identified a subset we think may be willing to soften their tactics, like the group we met with.  You’ve proven to be valuable in assembling information on these types of organizations and on helping me find effective ways to communicate with them.”  She smiled slightly, “I also note that, despite the Empire’s best efforts, I am not dead.”

_Only because thieves stole our shuttle_. Jyn was quite sure that such a sentiment should not be shared.  She kept her mouth shut.

“For the record, I still think this is a terrible idea, but, if you want to do this,” Draven waved a hand at the table, “Thing, it would be my recommendation that Erso’s position not be considered a military role.  You want her?  She goes on the payroll for the Chief of State’s office, not the Alliance Military.”

_All I can do is fight_.  Jyn thought. _I’m not suited for anything else_.

“I would agree that she’d do better operating outside traditional military channels.”  Mothma noted.  “Would you be comfortable with that, Jyn?  You wouldn’t enlist with the Alliance military, but you’d serve in, say, a special agent capacity, reporting directly to me.”

“I don’t do well with orders,” Jyn spoke.

“Another understatement,” Draven muttered.

“That’s why I think this will be a better fit for you.”  Mothma said.  “You’d have substantially more latitude to operate, and I think it’s a place where your skills would best help us make a difference.  If you’re concerned about not seeing much action, well, the last week would give you some idea of what you could expect.”  She turned her attention to Draven.  “It would be useful for her to do some of the training you put your people through, too.”

“Fine.” Draven didn’t seem to think it was fine at all.  He retrieved a datapad.  “When she does that, we’ll say she’s a liaison working with Alliance Intelligence.”

“Jyn?”

She didn’t have any better offers on the table.  She also had to admit that, despite the mission literally exploding around her, they had managed to accomplish the mission goals and return safely to base.  She would never fit into a military shaped hole, but she wanted to help.  Maybe this was something she could do.  “I don’t have to do any politician stuff.”

“No politician stuff beyond offering me an opinion before or after a meeting.” Mothma agreed.

“Some of these people aren’t going to like me,” Jyn added.  “If they were former Partisans, they might know Saw and I…”

“We can assess each situation as it arises,” Mothma said.  

“And I’m not easy to work with.”  Jyn reminded her.

Mothma glanced at Draven’s bent head as he pretended that his datapad was interesting. “Neither am I.”

“And I’m a criminal.”  Jyn added.  

“I’m familiar with your file.”  Mothma agreed.  “But I think people should get second chances.  And I hope you’re willing to give the Alliance a second chance, too.”

She wasn’t sure what to say about that.  It seemed – it really did seem like these people wanted her here.  She weighed the offer in her mind.  Bodhi was right – she did begrudgingly like Mothma.  She could probably get to work with Bodhi sometimes.  Maybe…maybe she could try to make some friends, too?  She could try.  It was better than running. Jyn had been tired of running, and the past few weeks had felt…they felt good.  She wanted to help again, to belong again…to _believe_ again.  And maybe – _maybe –_ she did.  “Okay.”

“General?” Mothma finally addressed Draven.

He waved a hand in their direction.  “I’ll draw up the paperwork.”

~*~

She felt at peace with things up until she reached out to trigger the door.  It had been easy to forget about Cassian’s interruption while she was discussing details with Mothma and Draven and signing documents.  The moment her hand touched the door controls, she remembered and it was everything she could do not to let her breath hitch in front of the Alliance’s higher ups.

The door opened.  The hall was empty.

Of course it was.  What had she really been expecting?  Cassian had better things to do than to wait to talk with his former asset to ensure she was assimilating.  She was being ridiculous.  She should go back to her room, shower, and maybe invite Bodhi over for a dinner of ration bars away from the prying eyes of all the people who would want to ask questions and hear stories about how and why they were not dead.  Or maybe she would skip all of that and just climb under her blankets and sleep.

“Jyn.”

The Force hated her.  Jyn felt her hands ball into fists and her shoulders tense.  Cautiously, she turned towards the sound of her name.  Cassian was emerging from the shadows.   _Why_ he was skulking about in the shadows waiting for her was a mystery.  Jyn could not think of one useful thing she could offer him.  “What do you want?”

“We received reports you were dead.  I wanted to make sure you’re alright,” he replied, as if it was obvious.  

_Walk away, Jyn.  Just walk away_. Her feet betrayed her and remained rooted.  She might not know what Cassian’s end game was.  She didn’t have to know.  She was done being his useful asset.  Before she could think about the ramifications of manhandling an Alliance officer, Jyn closed the distance between them, grabbed a fistful of Cassian’s jacket, and pulled him into the empty room opposite the one she just left.  Her free hand slapped the controls closed.  With a snarl, she pushed him, releasing the jacket. “You don’t get to do this.”

“Do _what_?” Cassian seemed incredulous.  “Care whether you live or die?”

And that was the problem.  As long as he saw her as his asset, he did have a reason to care.  She was the sort of tool that couldn’t exactly be useful to the Rebellion buried six feet under the ground.  The thought somehow made it worse.  Jyn swallowed.  Why was it, she wondered, that she could speak to a room full of important people and find the words she needed, and yet, when having to talk one on one with someone in any sort of personal way, the words just disappeared.  “I’m not your asset,” she finally managed to say.  She felt an internal wave of relief when they came out cold, but collected.

Cassian had not expected that, and, for a moment, he was rendered speechless.  He looked hurt, as if she’d walked up to him, grabbed his shoulder, and shoved her fist into his stomach.  “No.  We’re friends.”    

“That’s a lie,” she bit out.  “You have no interest in me beyond my usefulness to the Rebellion.”

Cassian’s eyes flashed and his mouth tightened.  “Who told you that?”

“You.”

“I _never_ said that.” Cassian’s voice held so much conviction, she would have believed him if she did not know he was lying.  Because that was a problem with Cassian – he could lie to someone, manipulate them into believing whatever he wanted them to, and most of the time, they would never know.  He sold it.  He was trying to sell it now.

“I heard you.  You said it to that major, two days after you stopped coming to dinner.” She tried to shrug her shoulders as if she didn’t care, but found that the movement wouldn’t come.  She couldn’t even sound angry, just defeated.  “I heard everything.  How you pretended to be nice to me and Bodhi so we wouldn’t cause problems.  How the only thing that was between us was your assignment from the council to take me to Jedha. How I’m 'just an asset.’  I heard all of it.”  This time, she managed the movement.  “At least I knew why you suddenly disappeared.  I was assigned a mission.  It’s someone else’s responsibility to keep me out of trouble now.”

His eyes had widened while she revealed his lies, one by one.  It was as if he couldn’t quite believe she’d caught him.  Cassian’s assets likely never discovered the truth, she realized.  She doubted they even knew who he really was.  She wondered if she ever had.

Strange how you could start to fall in – how you could let yourself feel something for a person beyond how useful they might be to you, and never actually know them.

“Jyn…”

“Stop lying to me, Cassian.”

Silence hung between them, thick and heavy.  Jyn felt as if it was squeezing the air from the room.  The voices in the back of her mind told her to run, to protect herself.  The problem was that she’d never been able to listen to those voices.  If she had, perhaps she would have escaped before someone else could hurt her.

She didn’t think it could hurt more than it already had, but when Cassian turned wordlessly towards the door, she felt something inside her shatter.  She _hated_ him for it, and she hated herself for giving someone the power to do that to her again.

And then Cassian keyed something into the keypad.  She heard a lock click into place and watched as he turned around and made his way back to her.  For several long moments, he stood there and looked at her. She’d seen him look that way once before, on an elevator when he thought was dying.  (He was dying; he should have died; _they_ should have died….)

“There were charges brought against me, Jyn.”  Cassian said, his voice low.  "Against all the soldiers who returned from our initial group."

Part of her wanted to retort _for what, saving the galaxy?_ but the words died in her mouth.  Because he was serious – this was real – they punished him.  Jyn didn’t know what the Alliance’s military code was, but she suspected there were rules about deserting your post to participate in unsanctioned missions.  With Scarif alone, they could likely trump up some strong charges against Cassian.  If they knew the truth about what happened on Eadu, that he’d had the shot and hadn’t taken it, there might be additional charges they could bring.  

He looked down, then managed to get out, “There were mitigating factors, so they offered to let us plead guilty, get a slap on the wrist, and keep everything quiet.  I won’t be discharged or see prison.  I even keep my rank.  But there are conditions.  If I step out of line again….” He produced a datapad from somewhere inside his jacket.  After a few moments of tapping at it, he passed her the device.  “Proof,” he said, “That I’m telling you the truth.”

Jyn took the datapad and looked at the document on the screen.  Her eyes skimmed over it until they came to rest on Cassian’s signature on the final page beside a date and time stamp.  He signed this, she realized, the morning after he disappeared.  “You didn’t tell us…”

“It wasn’t your concern.”  He took the datapad back and turned it off.  “And I was guilty.”  Cassian tucked the datapad into his jacket.  “They aren’t going to come after you or Bodhi.  You were both private citizens at the time and there’s some question as to whether the shuttle was Bodhi’s or the Alliance’s.”

Jyn swallowed. Every evening, he sat there and watched as she and Bodhi began to build lives while his was falling apart, and he’d said nothing.  Jyn wasn’t sure how friendship worked, but she was pretty certain you were supposed to kriffing say something about things like this. “Cassian-”

“Please,” he cut her off, “Let me finish.”  Jyn saw him swallow before he managed to look at her and continue, “The day after that was finalized, Major Ranvek questioned me about you.  Fraternization would be a violation of my agreement.”

She wanted to tell him he was lying, except he’d been honest about the first bit.  He might be telling the truth about this part, too.  If he was, she was going back into the Council room to demand her agreement with Mothma be returned and tearing it up. “You’re not allowed to have friends? What kind of Alliance is this?”

Cassian looked extremely uncomfortable.  “The concern wasn’t friendship.  It,” he found the wall behind her head fascinating.  “It was romantic.” He sounded as if the words were being pulled from him against his will.  “I needed to provide an excuse to Ranvek for why I spent time around you.  I found one.  He believed me.  I’ve done a lot of recruiting for the Rebellion, and it’s not uncommon for someone in recruitment to keep an eye on the new soldiers.  Afterwards, I didn’t know what to do.  The Rebellion is all I have.  People were gonna keep talking.  I thought if I was scarce for awhile, maybe they’d stop.  After,” he paused and tried to look at her before his eyes flickered to his boots.  “After a couple days, I tried to find you, to warn you about the…the talk, but you weren’t in any of the common areas and I couldn’t go to your quarters.  The only time I saw you was that time in the mess you and Bodhi looked at me like you wanted to kill me.”  A touch of accusation hung in that final sentence.

Jyn was dumbfounded.  “You said,” she wanted to choke on the words, “You said that I was confused, and that I was imagining a connection that didn’t exist.  You said there was nothing between us except the mission to find my father.  And then you left.”   _I thought you were different.  I thought you were my friend.  I started thinking maybe you would want more than that._

But wasn’t that what Cassian saw, too?  Jyn didn’t know how relationships worked.  When other girls were going to dances or on dates, she had been fighting a war or trying to survive on the streets.  She thought the way he looked at her, the way he’d acted….but she didn’t really know.  In the end, she misread everything.  What she had seen as them making an effort to get to know each other, Cassian saw as a woman imagining a connection that never existed.

And that was…it was fine.  Cassian didn’t owe her anything.  He was allowed to be friends or not be friends with whoever he wanted.  He could be attracted or not attracted to whoever he wanted.  He didn’t want her, and that was….  

“So I was angry,” Jyn finished.   _I was hurt.  I thought you were different.  I wanted you to be different.  I was foolish._  And, because she owed it to Bodhi, she added, “But Bodhi doesn’t hate you.  He was trying to be my friend, but he still wants to be friends with you if that’s what you want.”

  “Jyn,” Cassian moved to grab her arm, then stopped.  His fingers curled around empty air before his hand fell back to his side.  “Jyn, I’m sorry.  You weren’t supposed to hear that conversation.  It was a story I made up.  I never meant it.  It was never supposed to go beyond Ranvek.  I meant what I told you before, that this is your home, and that you’re wanted here.”  He finally looked at her. “That _I_ want you here.  And not just because you’re useful to the Rebellion, but because we’re friends.  I _want_ us to be friends.  I’m sorry I caused you to believe anything other than that.”

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say.  She wasn’t sure what she believed. Part of her, the part that had let Cassian in, wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that he wasn’t like everyone else.  Another part reminded her what it felt like when the people she trusted didn’t stick around.  Neither part knew whether to trust him.  “But if friends aren’t a problem, you could have just told him that, Cassian.”

He didn’t say anything.  His eyes flickered to the ground as he pressed his lips together.  After a moment, he nodded once to himself and looked at her.  “You’re right.”  His voice was resigned.  “I should have told him we were friends.  I wasn’t thinking.”

That one she knew was a lie.  Cassian was always thinking.  He was like a dejarik master.  His mind was always three or four steps ahead.  Everything he did was calculated.  And if Cassian was always thinking, then there was either missing information in what he’d shared with her or he had told the major the truth.  She was now willing to admit that, perhaps, the latter was not the case.  Unfortunately, that didn’t help her fill in the blanks with the former.  “ _Are_ we friends?”

“Yes,” he replied.  “If – if that’s what you want.”

Was it?  If she hadn’t heard what Cassian told Ranvek, they would still be friends. She felt herself nod.

“Jyn, I would, uh, appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about the, the plea.” Cassian looked as if he wanted to melt into the floor.

Right.  They were still having a conversation about that.  “Of course.”  

“We should also unlock the door now.”  Cassian turned towards it.  “Friends don’t usually lock themselves alone in empty conference rooms.  We can…move some place more public?  Maybe – talk about work or…or whatever you want to talk about, Jyn.  I want things to be good between us again.”

She nodded again. “I’m sorry that you got caught in – Bodhi said people keep coming up with stories about me, and I’m sorry you got caught in that.” She was half glad she couldn’t see his expression from the new angle.

Cassian stopped beside her.  The silence hung, thick, and she wondered if he thought she was being conceited.  Finally he made a noise that sounded like a sigh.  “It’s not your fault.  I got myself into it.”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.  “You got yourself into these stupid rumors?”

“I should have seen it coming,” Cassian was watching the door controls.  “And I shouldn’t have been so….  It doesn’t matter, Jyn.  You aren’t doing anything to get their attention.”

He shouldn’t have been so what?  Nice to her?  That didn’t make sense.  Bodhi was nice to her – she went everywhere with Bodhi – and no one was saying that she was sleeping with Bodhi.  Of course, Jyn wasn’t sure how anyone could watch how Bodhi interacted with her and think he was interested in her in that way.  He didn’t act the way Cassian….  

Cassian had been acting like, well, like her.  Jyn knew what messages she was sending – or at least trying to send.  People apparently thought Cassian had been sending the same type of messages to her.  She’d been operating on the assumption that he hadn’t meant to, but…  

_I sort of get the impression that Cassian is a lot like you_.

Beside her, Cassian started moving again.   _You need to say something.  Now. Before he unlocks the door._ She knew how to say words, except _these words_ , they were the type that gave power.  Jyn had given people that power before.  She knew where that road led.  She knew how it could end – how it always had ended.  Maybe not having words was a good thing.  It had hurt so damn much when she’d overheard him.  She’d been so angry because it was easier to be angry than to feel like you were crumbling inside.  And that was just….maybe things would be better if she didn’t….

Before she could stop it, her hand darted out to catch his sleeve.  Cassian stopped.  His eyes went down to where her fingers were curled along the cuff of his jacket.  When they came back up, the disaffected look he hadn’t shown her in weeks was weaving its way back across his face.  Cassian probably wasn’t used to people sticking around either. Spies, by the nature of their jobs, often had to be solitary. Cassian knew what safety was, too.  He was trying to get back to it. How much of _them_ was wrapped up in trying not to let down the walls or let someone in who could hurt you again?  “Wait.”  Her mouth felt dry and she tried to swallow before repeating, “Wait.  I’m not Alliance military.”

“What?”  The spy face stalled.

“I’m not Alliance military,” she repeated, calmer this time.  “I accepted a position, but it’s with Councilor Mothma and it’s not…. Fraternization is only a problem if I’m military, and I’m not.” Maybe this was a mistake.  Maybe she’d still read it wrong.  “If – if there’s any truth to the talk and you might want – it wouldn’t break any rules.  You wouldn’t be abusing your power or…”  Oh, Force, his face was completely blank now.  Maybe he did think of her like that, but thought any sort of romantic entanglement with her would be an error of judgment.  Why had she opened that door?  She should have just…just not said anything.  “I don’t know what you want, Cassian.”  The words were a struggle to say.  She couldn’t quite get them above a whisper.  

He was silent a long moment before he said, “I want you, but if you don’t want that, I won’t make it awkward.”  His voice was almost as quiet as hers.  

Jyn noticed they were both studying their boots as if the buckles were fascinating. “Me too.”  She snuck a look at his face at the same time he snuck one at hers.  Breathing became hard again.  Words weren’t happening. Her hand, though, she could move her hand.  The last two fingers caught around his.  Jyn felt her thumb slide softly against Cassian’s hand.

His fingers curled against hers.

She inched her foot closer to him, removing what little personal space there had been, and stole another look.

“Jyn,” Cassian was watching her again, an almost incredulous look weaving its way across his features.  She felt her face warm and a smile pull at her mouth and glanced down once more before forcing her eyes back up.  He was still looking at her.  

Jyn wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do now.  She supposed she could push him against the wall while grabbing at his belt, but that felt like some sort of cheap backroom hook-up.  She didn’t want Cassian as a quick hook-up.  “I don’t do this a lot.”

“I don’t either,” Cassian said.  It made her feel a little better.  He moved their hands slightly so he could lace his fingers with hers.  He looked a little nervous, a little disbelieving…. _young_.  She suspected he felt the way she did – happy and fearful all rolled together.  “Jyn, earlier - we need to talk about it.  My job – I don’t wanna lie to you, but there are things I can’t tell you.”

It was a valid issue and he was right; it wasn't going to go away just because they were on the same page about other things.  She thought a moment.  She didn't like being lied to, but she also couldn’t realistically expect Cassian to give her top secret information that she didn’t need access to.  “Just say that – I can’t tell you.  But don’t hide things that I can know just because you don’t want to upset me.”

He considered that for several moments.  “That’s fair.  And if something does upset you,” Cassian continued, “I need you to tell me.”

That was also fair.  Had she confronted him earlier, it would have saved both of them a lot of hurt.  She could try to do better.  “Okay.  You’ll do the same thing?”

He nodded, his eyes watching her thoughtfully.

Neither of them spoke.  She was once again faced with not knowing what to do.  She could, Jyn supposed, try that thing they were just talking about where she voiced what she was thinking.  It wasn’t as if she could make things worse than they had been a half hour ago by asking awkward questions like, “Now what?”

After a beat, Cassian asked, “If I kissed you…?”

“I’ll kiss you back,” she answered, feeling just as shy as he sounded.

“Okay.” Cassian’s head tilted slightly as he bent towards her.  “Good.”

“Good,” Jyn repeated and pressed her mouth to his.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Yavin had been the primary base circa-ANH, the rebels had other bases. The base on Hoth is not established until about three years after ANH. I needed a base for them to be on in between ANH and ESB, so this base is me doing some hand waving.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try to get a post of this uploaded every day or so. It is finished, so if you don't want to wait for me to get around to posting the different chapters, the whole thing is on tumblr (ri-writing). 
> 
> I don't know how they lived; insert your favorite head canon. :p


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